


Hearts And Flowers

by A_Damned_Scientist



Series: Ambassador Aeryn [4]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is plotting against Aeryn and the PK embassy on Earth. Will they stop at nothing to hurt Aeryn and discredit the PKs in the eyes of humans? Sequel to The Trouble With Normal, All's Well Under The Sun and Fifty Shades Of Black White and Red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The third (or fourth, if you count Fifty Shades of Black White and Red), and probably final part of the most enormous story I've ever written. At long last, after over 100K words and 4 fics we finally get to the 'Big Reveal' that I had originally planned when I wrote my outline for this storyline such a long, long time ago. That said, there do now seem to be a few new loose ends flapping about here… (Thanks JJ and Vinegardog , for suggesting them). Hmm. Seriously though, readers should consider this story as finished. At the moment, I can't see myself taking it further.
> 
> Warnings: R for a very brief sex scene, which a concerned parent could easily redact without ruining the story, but mostly PG-13 for occasional sexual references and moderate violence.
> 
> Previous installments:
> 
> The Trouble With Normal  
> All's Well Under The Sun  
> Fifty Shades of Black White and Red (also R, also not key to the overall plot)
> 
> The story so far:
> 
> Set about 15 years or thereabouts after Comic #15. John and Aeryn's two teenage children are kidnapped. The Moyans capture some of those responsible and discover that they are from Earth. John and Aeryn travel to Earth and, with the aid of their Peacekeeper allies and sympathetic humans, rescue the children. The Peacekeepers decide they need an ambassador to Earth and ask Aeryn to take on the role. Aeryn accepts, but things do not go smoothly. Some humans seem opposed to them or want to use them to serve their own ends and someone unknown, who seems to know a great deal about Aeryn, starts spreading stories about her. The troublemaker is eventually tracked down and revealed to be Grayza, who, it seems, has made a life for herself on Earth. Aeryn and John confront her, but she blows up the building they are in in an apparent attempt to kill them, killing herself in the process. And now on Farscape…..
> 
> Thanks: To JJ, Vinegardog and pdsldl for beta-ing, inputs and just plain encouragement when I'd given up on this seemingly never-ending story.

"…. Repercussions from the death of Maryland business owner Melanie Daniels continue to be felt both in Washington and throughout the country," the bouffant owning TV news anchor intoned with obvious relish. "Whilst neither the government nor the Sebacean embassy have so far commented on conflicting rumours that Daniels was either a deep-cover Sebacean agent or that she was killed by embassy staff, sources have confirmed, off-the-record, that the Sebacean embassy was involved somehow with her and with her death. Gerald Wagnleitner, spokesman for the New-York based Earth-First movement described it as 'A watershed moment in our relationship with the aliens, one of the first times the public has had the chance to see the extraterrestrials for what they really are: a threat to our…'"

Aeryn sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily as she waited the few microts for her laptop to power down, half listening to the story unfolding on the TV in the corner of her office. It was only mid-afternoon but she had just struggled through a stressful and busy couple of days and the combination of the stresses of work, the strains of home and an on-going lack of sleep were starting to tell on her.

If she had been harbouring any thoughts that her workload might have reduced as a consequence of the embassy's relationship with the US government turning colder, such hopes had been well and truly dashed by the reality of what had actually happened in the last fortnight. Not only had the change in the nature of their relationship served to complicate communications with their host country, but other major Earth powers had also immediately tried to increase their interactions with the Peacekeepers. John had suggested that any timidity that those other countries and power blocks might have felt in the previous months had been washed away once they had seen the opportunity to fill the vacuum in US-Peacekeeper relations and advance their own interests more vocally. It seemed a reasonable assessment of what she was now experiencing. Every day brought a new approach from some far-flung opportunist or other. Thank the Goddess for translator microbes!

A few of the more forward human nations, wasting no time, had even suggested that the Peacekeeper embassy should relocate to within their borders. Aeryn had raised the possibility with John and been surprised at the vehemence of his opposition. Indeed, they had had a blazing row about the issue five days ago, with Aeryn accusing John of being too emotionally tied up with his home country to discuss the matter logically and John countering that she should be able to understand how important loyalty to his country of birth was to him. Honour had been satisfied on both sides when Aeryn had announced that she had no intention of moving the embassy anyway: regardless of their short-term disagreements, the US remained the dominant power on Earth and was also host to the United Nations. For as long as the Peacekeepers retained only one embassy on Earth, there was only one logical place for it to be. And with Aeryn's declaration they had both been happy to move on from that particular discussion.

The argument with John hadn't been the only domestic issue that Aeryn had had to face: a further familial difficulty had emerged as a consequence of D'Argo and Livvy's enforced break from school. Aeryn had readily agreed with her advisors that the security situation was far too uncertain for the children to continue attending the school. However, they had not thought of everything that could go wrong: For the last two weekens, Livvy had been even more withdrawn than usual, sulking with a depth and persistence which rivalled John at his worst. Finally, three evenings previously, Aeryn had discovered that Livvy was involved in some sort of nascent romantic relationship with one of the boys at school. A lot of Livvy's sulking seemed to be down to her being upset at the idea of no longer being able to continue developing that relationship. The smouldering situation had finally erupted into a conflagration the day before. D'Argo had found out and begun to tease Livvy about it, questioning why she would choose a weak and annoying human when there were plenty of cadets on Moya that she could take her pick from. Naturally, when Aeryn had heard his words, she had exploded. She had then spent the next few arns, time which she could ill-afford, loudly and pointedly explaining to her eldest son the extent to which he was in error, how a weak and annoying human could make a perfectly satisfactory mate and how she would not put up with such an attitude from her own offspring.

It was late evening by the time she had been able to get back to her overflowing desk, and that had stretched into what John would have called the 'small hours' before she had finally made it to bed.

The next day Aeryn had woken in a foul mood after a fitful night's sleep, during which Talyn had gotten them up twice, before John had finally agreed to take the baby off to a separate room for the rest of the night to give Aeryn a chance to salvage some sleep. After a particularly morose family breakfast, with no one speaking civilly to anyone, she had spent the morning wishing heartily for more time to devote to catching up on matters either domestic or ambassadorial. She had found herself longing for the arrival of the additional diplomatic staff, which High Command had promised to send her. The last thing she had needed was another unexpected event to make even more demands on her time. Unfortunately, that was exactly what she got.

She had just been finishing second meal, in her office with only John for company, trying to make up after the stresses of the night before and of breakfast, when she had received an urgent call from Sikozu, up on Moya. Apparently, the Med Tech examining Grayza's corpse had found something, which needed her attention. John, had seen her expression of weary despair at the news and had promptly suggested to Aeryn that she spend the next half arn finishing up anything which absolutely could not wait whilst he packed an overnight bag for them both and arranged 'D'Argo- and Livvy-sitters' for the night: His plan was that once they had dealt with Sikozu's discovery then they could, baby Talyn permitting, spend the night relaxing on Moya amongst old friends and away from the hustle, bustle and demands on Earth.

She was inclined to think it was one of his better plans.

Aeryn closed the lid on the now inert computer. Resisting the urge to check her phone, she picked up the laptop case beside her desk, about to pack the computer away to take with her, but then thought better of the idea, locking it away in her desk drawer instead. There was no point in making an effort to get away from it all and then taking it all with you when you went. There was some technology she couldn't do without, though: She picked up her comms badge and activated it.

"John? John, it's Aeryn. Are you ready to go?" She asked hopefully, allowing herself a slight smile at the thought of an evening back amongst the familiar surroundings of Moya and of a night spent in her own bed, in her own quarters, aboard the ship that had been her only true home.

'~'

"It is a neural control device," Sikozu explained to Aeryn, John and Nybar, whilst holding aloft the small conical implant that chief med tech Jadim had found embedded in Grayza's neck nearly a day before. "Sometimes called a neural harness." John screwed up his face, as though trying to remember where he had heard that term before. "This component is placed in the… victim… allowing their actions to be totally controlled by whoever possesses the rest of the apparatus. It's Scarran, well, Kalish in origin, but used by others." Aeryn arched an eyebrow and John looked as though he was about to launch into some long-winded monologue, so Sikozu pressed on, hoping to cut him off. "Scorpius, for instance."

"You think that Scorpius…!?" John exploded, interrupting. Sikozu mentally kicked herself. She'd started him off now. She should never have mentioned the hybrid.

"No, I do not," she insisted carefully.

"But someone?" Nybar remarked soberly, as always.

"Indeed," Sikozu replied with a nod, placing the device on the table between them. John snatched it up and began to peer at it, causing Sikozu to wonder what the human could possibly hope to divine from such a close visual examination of what was an effectively featureless device. Typically, deficient behaviour, she desperately tried not to think or say out loud.

"So someone was controlling Grayza? Using this device?" Aeryn voiced all of their thoughts. "If so, who and to what end?" Sikozu could no longer entirely control her irritation and snatched the neural control back from John, almost immediately setting it back down on the table with a firm thwacking sound.

There was a short, laden silence. Nybar seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face.

"That," John replied, his face barely showing any reaction at all to Sikozu's unspoken rebuke. "Is the million dollar question." He looked around him at the trio of stony faces and then winked at Sikozu. She scowled back at him.

'~'

"How long are you staying for this time?" Chiana asked Aeryn as they made their way through Moya's arching, golden corridors towards Pilot's chamber. Chiana had arrived at the medical centre just as John, Aeryn, Sikozu and Nybar were leaving. John had been heading off to his and Aeryn's quarters whilst Sikozu and Nybar, their briefing concluded, had been going back to Command. Chiana, who was not on duty, had seized the opportunity to accompany Aeryn and spend a short time alone with her friend.

"Not long enough!" Aeryn had replied wistfully, running her fingertips over one of Moya's corridor ribs as they turned a corner. "Probably just the one night." She added. They came to a fork in the corridor and turned left towards Pilot's den. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in babysitting Talyn for the night?" Aeryn's voice betrayed such hints of weariness and hope that Chiana couldn't bring herself to decline the request outright, although looking after someone else's narl for a night was far from the top of her list of things she wanted to do. Chiana swallowed, nodded and tried to flash Aeryn a smile, which she hoped, would convey that she would love to do so.

Aeryn nodded in thanks but her mood didn't seem to lift any. Whatever it was that was weighing on her, it must be bad, Chiana surmised.

"Wassamatter?" Chiana enquired, searching Aeryn's face for clues as to how upset she was and why. "Tell aunty Chi," the Nebari joked when no answer was immediately forthcoming. No matter Aeryn's seniority in years and position, she had helped her friend so often with her emotions over the cycles that that particular nickname, which John had first given to her about ten cycles ago, had stuck.

"Humans!" Aeryn sighed, wiggling her eyebrows to show that the species were not all bad. "They're infuriating, frustrating, confusing…"

"Yeah, they're all that," Chiana agreed as they made their way up a level riser to Pilot's tier. "Tell you what, then… How about you get Sikozu to look after the narl and I'll trade you Senior Officer Lonevo for John?" she offered, skipping along beside Aeryn, trying out a variation on her long-running tease about bedding Crichton.

"Is Lonevo your latest recreation partner, then?" Aeryn remarked with a casual ease born of her Peacekeeper upbringing and nurtured during many conversations with Chiana about sex over the cycles that they had known each other. Chiana nodded enthusiastically and licked her lips. "Nice choice." Aeryn continued. "I always thought he looked a bit like Larraq." Aeryn mumbled her approval, blushing as soon as the words came out.

"Larraq, eh?" Chiana teased with a raised eyebrow. "So, is it a deal then?" Chi chuckled. "John for La… I mean Lonevo?" It was no secret to Chiana that Aeryn had found the late Peacekeeper Special Ops Captain attractive, one of many nuggets of information that helped to spice up Chiana's frequent teasing of her.

"No!" Aeryn snorted with some finality. She rolled her eyes as they turned the corner into the last corridor before Pilot's den. "But if you could frell some sense into my son sometime…." She added. "He's turning out to be as annoying as his father…." Chiana hooted with laughter. Aeryn suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and snagged Chiana's arm in her hand, pulling the Nebari round to face her. "You do know that I was just joking right, Chiana?" Aeryn demanded, suddenly serious, fixing Chiana with a witheringly solemn glare. "I mean, John would be furious."

"Sure, Aeryn," Chiana laughed and winked, defusing the moment. She added a shrug for good measure. "That'd just be too weird."

"Fine," Aeryn let out the breath she had been holding, released Chiana's arm and took a few more steps towards Pilot's den.

"Let me know if you change your mind on that, though," Chiana called after her with a cackle, seeing the opportunity for more teasing as she hurried to catch back up with her friend. "I mean, these last few monens, his eema's been shaping up nicely. Be as good as John's in another six."

'~'

Senior Officer Silom checked the readings on his console to ensure that the Leviathan transport pod that he had piloted through the wormhole to the Sol system was safely back in normal space. His task accomplished, he began to triangulate their position against the nearby navigation beacon. He only had four more arns to go on this flight. Four more arns to put up with being in close confinement with the team of six professional Peacekeeper diplomats he was charged with ferrying to Earth: They weren't his sort of people at all - way too supercilious and slippery. A couple of them wouldn't shut up, a most un-Peacekeeper-like trait. They just kept talking and talking, but all of their talk just seemed to be a means of trying to show who was more intelligent or had had the better or more important experiences. The remainder of the diplomatic team were mostly disconcertingly quiet, sitting watching everything with a slight smile playing across their faces. The quiet ones were the worst, he had decided. They didn't say much, but what they did say was often vicious. He would rather they had remained silent permanently so that he wouldn't have to endure the pithy remarks that they would drop from time to time.

Silom really wasn't happy with this whole assignment. He was a Marauder pilot and could have done with being in something a bit more heavily armed than a Leviathan transport pod. But he knew well enough that it was just not safe to risk taking a Marauder into a wormhole. Who wanted to chance being turned into soup, after all? Not that he liked flying through wormholes under any circumstances or in any vessel. There was something about them that was just not right. The tension inherent in going through the wormhole had almost been the last straw in an assignment that was unpleasant in almost every conceivable way. Still, he reminded himself, only four arns to Moya and a good, solid meal and a glass of fellip nectar amongst his own sort of people in the Peacekeeper officers' mess.

He was still inwardly smiling at that comforting thought when, without any warning, a weapons blast tore through the pod, depressurizing it within a microt and killing all aboard.

'~'

A kaleidoscope of moonbeams danced outside of Moya's observation deck. The beautiful display would have held Aeryn's full attention if it were not for the presence of John. They lay, spooned, enveloped in a pile of furs and revelling in a post-coital glow. Now that the candles had burnt down, the only other light was that spilling in through the giant window. Aeryn chuckled as his lips nuzzled at her neck, in symphony with his manhood nuzzling ever more insistently between her thighs.

"You are insatiable," she chided happily, her breath catching as he caught her wrists in his hands and rolled atop her, pinning her now on her back as his strangely stubbly face worried at her shoulder and neck. She could have sworn that John had shaved earlier that day. She ran her hands through his dark hair, taking his face in her hands and encouraging his head upwards in order that his beautiful blue eyes would look into her own. He complied, his unexpectedly dark eyes smiled roguishly down at her surprised features as he steadily eased himself inside her.

"Officer Sun," he growled triumphantly. "Show me how you handle big again."

"Larraq!?" Aeryn gasped back, in a mix of surprise and delight.

"Ambassador Sun!" An insistent voice hissing from Aeryn's communicator badge pulled her abruptly awake. As she opened her eyes, rubbing away the bleariness of sleep, her familiar quarters aboard Moya came into focus. John lay asleep beside her, blissfully oblivious to her or to her racy dream. The human had always been a much heavier sleeper than she regarded as being healthy, but tonight, she was grateful for his obliviousness.

"Ambassador!?" The voice came again from her comms. The speaker was unfamiliar to her, and a little nervous, as well they might be when calling the most senior officer on the ship in the middle of the sleep cycle.

"Give me a microt," Aeryn whispered into the comms badge as she gently edged her way out of bed, trying not to wake John.

Frell Chiana and her frelling dirty mind - her teasing that evening was doubtless the root cause of Aeryn's dream. Not that she could really blame it all on the Nebari. Pushing aside her vestigial and illogical guilt and embarrassment over her dream, she pulled on a robe and swiftly made her way to the next room, so that her husband could sleep on whilst she talked to whoever had called her.

"Yes, what is it?" Aeryn asked once she was outside the sleeping chamber.

"Officer Callok, officer of the watch. The ship carrying the diplomatic team is three arns overdue." The man relayed to Aeryn, presumably from Moya's command.

"Have you tried to contact them?" Aeryn snapped back. She knew she shouldn't really be so hard on the young officer. She remembered his face now that he had given his name: he was a baby-faced recent transfer from Zobrek's carrier. The young man had had to weigh the difficult decision of whether it was worse to wake his commanding officer during the sleep cycle against how long to do nothing once the transport pod was overdue. It would have been a hard choice for one in his position. How things had changed from the days when she knew everyone aboard Moya and there had been no chain of command to worry about.

"Yes ma'am. We are unable to raise them on any channel." He replied. That didn't sound good to Aeryn. That the shuttle should be both overdue and had and lost contact constituted a worrying combination.

"Do you have their last position?"

"Yes, ma'am. The transport's pilot used the navigation beacon to relay their successful passage through the wormhole, after that we have nothing."

"Then plot a course and take us there." Aeryn ordered. She paused as she marshalled her thoughts. "I want you to prepare a briefing to give to the senior officers in one arn in the central chamber. And Officer Callok?"

"Y... yes ma'am?" he replied, clearly nervous, likely anticipating some sort of punishment.

"You did the right thing waking me up. Well done." The sound of John tossing and rolling over in bed reached her from the next room, reminding her of her recently interrupted dream. The right thing in more ways than you could possibly know, she added to herself.

'~'

The remains of the transport pod were easy to find. Although the damage to the ship had been extensive, most of the debris was still located close to the navigation beacon and was soon snagged in the docking web and brought aboard Moya. As John approached the door to the docking bay he noted that a number of the senior Peacekeeper officers, as well as Sikozu and Chiana, had convened in the corridor, ready to survey the wreckage. The door to the chamber swung open and the small group made their way inside.

"So, no point in asking about survivors…" Chiana remarked dryly to John. He nodded perfunctorily, steeling himself with a deep breath before venturing deeper into the bay. The pod looked almost as though it had been grabbed by a giant infant and pulled apart.

"Doesn't look quite right… for structural failure," John commented as he got closer and began to pick his way through the lighter remains in order to approach the largest piece of wreckage.

"Looks like a pulse cannon." Nybar tapped at one particularly heavily burnt section.

"Anyone recognize anything familiar, other than the obvious?" Aeryn demanded. A series of negative grunts and headshakes answered her.

"One scorch mark looks much like the same as another," Sikozu muttered.

"Well, it's not the humans." Nybar remarked. "They don't have much left which is capable of an attack like this, and what they have got we have been keeping track of."

"Unless you missed something?" John pointed out.

"Not possible." Nybar shook his head. John shrugged: Experience had taught him that there was little point in arguing against a stiff-necked Peacekeeper like Nybar. Better to raise it later, amongst minds more open to considering what they might not know.

"Well, in that case, that would mean," Aeryn said, laying a hand on a large fragment that looked as though it came from the front of the pod. "That there is someone else on this side of the wormhole, someone with the means and the will to do this."

John watched Aeryn considering her next move for a few microts. She briefly met his eyes before, to his slight surprise, turning to address Nybar.

"Set a course back to Earth. Prepare me a Marauder. As soon as we are half an arn from the planet, let me know, then hail the US administration, the priority channel. Tell them that the Peacekeeper ambassador needs to speak with them urgently. With the Secretary of State or Secretary of Defence. Don't let them fob you off with a flunky – and tell them that I am already on my way down." And with that, she touched John on the shoulder, motioned for him to follow and strode from the docking bay,

"Ma'am," Nybar nodded in the affirmative at the already departing back of his captain. John shrugged and pulled a face at the lieutenant, to show that he wasn't sure exactly what his wife had in mind either, before hurrying after her.


	2. Chapter 2

Within an arn of Aeryn's Marauder setting down at Andrews Air Force Base she found herself and her companions being ushered into a wood-panelled conference room in the State Department. About a dozen humans, predominantly middle aged men in dark suits, sprinkled with a couple of military types and a couple of younger, civilian females, were already waiting for her. Nybar had done a good job with expressing the importance of her visit - she had the sort of senior audience she had wanted, including, she noted with satisfaction, the Secretary of State.

"Ambassador Sun," Secretary Sharp acknowledged her entry, standing for a couple of microts as he motioned her to sit. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Aeryn sat, closely followed by John, whilst her small Peacekeeper entourage remained standing, hovering protectively behind her. "One of our ships has been attacked, in the outer reaches of your system." She had no desire to waste time on pleasantries: she wanted to tell the humans what had happened in a way which left them in no doubt as to how seriously she saw it.

"Well, it wasn't us..." Sharp blustered with an arched eyebrow, broadcasting effrontery at the very idea. He turned slightly to address one of the military types. "Was it, General?"

"No, sir, absolutely not." Came the snapped reply.

"I wasn't implying that it was," Aeryn replied with a dry sigh. "But it is obviously a very serious development."

"Good, just so long as we are clear that you are not accusing…"

"Our intelligence is that Earth currently lacks the military capacity to mount such an attack." Aeryn lied with evident irritation, after all, the victim of the attack was only an unarmed Leviathan transport pod. It wouldn't have taken much to attack it. But the evidence she had did all point to it being someone else. She knew, of course, that Earth could have destroyed such a vessel, even with its currently limited capacity. However, they didn't need to know that detail and besides she gained some pleasure from the dig at the gulf between their military capabilities. She was certainly in no hurry to confess openly to the humans that they were tracking all of their current orbital and interplanetary activities. It wasn't just the humans who had secrets they wanted to keep.

"Then what….?" The Secretary began to ask.

"I came to warn you: it seems logical to conclude that there is a hostile third party at large within your solar system." Aeryn stated. "Despite the current, temporary strains in our relationship, I thought it was important to let you know with all possible haste."

A number of the humans huddled together into whispered side conversations at that news.

"Of course, it's not like you are trying to scare us into coming to you, with our tail between our legs, and begging you to look after us or anything." One of the secondary humans remarked with a mocking tone. Secretary Sharp indicated, with a wave of his hand, that his junior should remain silent, but his face betrayed his approval of his subordinate's words.

"Ambassador Sun, the United States government thanks you for your concern," He paused. Aeryn was about to reply when he held up a hand and continued. "But with all due respect, may I remind you that it was your actions, conducting a military operation on our soil, which led to the current suspension of full relations between us?" Sharp finished, clearly enjoying the opportunity to make such a barbed point, choosing to ignore that Grayza had been a Peacekeeper fugitive and had been the one to initiate violence.

"Have you not been listening to what I have just said!?" Aeryn fumed. Didn't the smug, pompous fool realise what was going on? "A hostile military power…"

"Hostile to your people," another flunky interrupted. "We have no evidence that they, whoever they might be, if they exists at all, bear any ill will towards the United States, or Earth. Unless there is something else you think we should know?" Sharp smiled and nodded along with his subordinate.

"Frelling shliznat!" Aeryn hissed under her breath in frustration, glaring daggers at the underling.

"Really, ambassador! I do know what that means." The Secretary commented dryly, brushing a mote of dust from his knee. Aeryn doubted he did no what that meant, but, for reasons of his own was seemingly unwilling to admit that Aeryn had just managed to broaden his vocabulary. It took all of Aeryn's self-control not to Pantak jab the supercilious smile from his face. "Perhaps if you could give us a full report of this alleged attack, then we can get back to you when we have had time to consider it?"

Aeryn snapped her fingers over her shoulder and one of her aides came forward, holding a slim dossier.

"I had a feeling that humans would want… just to talk. So we came prepared," Aeryn snarked. She took the folder over her shoulder without needing to look back to locate it and handed it across to the General who had spoken earlier. He leant forwards, took it with the briefest, quietest word of thanks and settled back into his chair.

The dossier remained unopened and silence fell over the room.

"Is that all, ambassador?" The Secretary asked after maybe 20 microts, with half a smile and a raised eyebrow. Aeryn had been a Peacekeeper officer long enough to know a dismissal when she heard one. However, she had gathered enough wisdom over the years not to give her opponents any further victories in such cases.

"I understand." She stood. "It must be hard for you to comprehend so much information. I will leave you to your thought." And with that she turned and strode from the room.

'~'

"They just don't seem to get it." Aeryn remarked angrily as the Marauder took off, heading back into space and Moya.

"Maybe they do." John suggested gently. She twisted slightly in her seat, which was next to his, and tilted her head in order to look at her husband. "Maybe they're not telling us everything?"

Aeryn considered this for a moment before nodding. Maybe the humans did know more than they were saying? Maybe they were, in some way that was not currently clear, either involved in or behind the attack on the diplomats' transport pod? Or maybe it was some other nation or power on Earth, and the US government knew something but wasn't telling the Peacekeepers?

"That is a possibility." Aeryn conceded. "We need intelligence. And fast." She tapped her comms, calling the Marauder's pilot. "Officer Doccon, new flight plan. Take us to the embassy." She tapped her comms off. "We need to talk to Louisa; I want her people working on this, see what they think and if they can dig anything up. And we need to get someone on the ground, closer to the US military: I want Lieutenant Pittach to go and talk to Kovack, ask him what he thinks."

"Is that wise?" John asked. "I mean… he's already a marked man." The Earth authorities knew of his divided loyalties and would surely have him under some sort of surveillance.

"No, John," Aeryn sighed. "You are right, but what other options are open to us?"

'~'

"Well, someone certainly seems hezmanna-bent on revenge against the Peacekeepers," Chiana remarked offhandedly to the rest of Moya's senior crew as they convened in the central chamber that evening to discuss their next move.

Several pairs of eyes swivelled Chiana's way, many, those who knew her less well, surprised by the accidental clarity of her words. She seemed to have cut to the heart of the matter. It all added up - the damaging stories spread about them, the attack on the pod carrying their diplomats, the attempt to kill Aeryn by apparently turning Grayza into a pyrrhic sacrifice. Even if the motivation wasn't vengeance, damage to the Peacekeepers in any and every way seemed to unite so many of the events of the last few monens.

"Frell!" Aeryn muttered as she considered the truth of Chiana's words. She had spent a day down at the embassy after the trip to Washington, making plans and issuing orders to her Earth-bound staff before completing her interrupted trip up to Moya.

"Indeed." Sikozu put in, steepling her fingers. "So that narrows the options down to about two thirds of the known galaxy." Several pairs of Sebacean eyes glared at her for that, but they all knew the history of their own people and couldn't deny the truth behind the Kalish's words, even if they didn't like having it pointed out to them.

"We still don't know who it is, or what their capabilities are," Nybar pointed out, putting the sentiment Sikozu had expressed in more delicate terms, acceptable to all present. Aeryn nodded.

"We need to send a message back through the wormhole. Warn High Command and the Eidelons as to what is going on here. Ask for back up." Aeryn stated.

"A communications signal will only work if there is a ship stationed the other side of the wormhole," Nybar replied.

"Which currently there is not," Sikozu pointed out. "Besides, our equipment here is limited: We need to send Grayza's body and the device we found in her through for them to examine it further. To see if they can find out anything more."

"So, we need to send a ship through," Aeryn said.

"Hon, there's a hostile ship somewhere in the system," John gently reminded her. "One which we've, so far, been unable to detect."

"I know that, John. In fact, there may even be more than one."

"None of our armed ships can safely traverse the wormhole." Nybar tapped his stylus on the desk. "However, we can't risk sending a small unarmed ship. And with the situation on Earth, strategically we would require Moya in orbit as our off-world base in case we need to evacuate our people."

"If we can't go through the wormhole with Moya, then it has to be a transport pod. Or the module." John replied. "Regardless of the risk."

"Too dangerous." Sikozu shook her head. "Look at what happened to the pod ferrying the diplomats."

"Agreed," Nybar nodded, "We cannot send anyone."

"Pfft," John blew out a breath. "We need a plan."

Aeryn arched an eyebrow as if to say that the last thing that they needed was one of John's plans. No one else commented and an uncomfortable silence dragged on for a few microts.

"I don't believe that they will directly attack Moya." Aeryn broke the silence at last. "She is the biggest target, the easiest way to hurt us. If they could successfully attack her, then I believe they would have already done so. If they do choose to do so in future, then I believe it will make no difference whether she is in orbit around Earth or traversing the wormhole. Other than attacking Moya, if they want to hurt us then the best way of doing that, for now, is to keep driving a wedge between humans and Sebaceans."

"They're going to do something really horrible, I reckon. Make it look to the humans like it was us," Chiana remarked quietly, once again, so it seemed, cutting to the heart of the matter. A chilled silence fell over the chamber as the likely truth of her words sunk in. After all, wasn't that just what their unknown enemy had been trying to do by making Grayza kill herself, trying to kill Aeryn and John along with her?

"Frell. I reckon you're probably right, Chi." John said, it being his turn now to break an uncomfortable silence.

"In that case, we need to evacuate. Get Moya… everyone… back through the wormhole. Moya seems to be our safest way of getting a message back to High Command, and if she goes, we can't risk leaving our people here. If we're not here, then they have no one to attack, and they can't make the humans think we're responsible for doing something terrible." Aeryn said. "Any disagreements?"

Even though most of the Peacekeeper crew were not used to a team approach to decision making, the more established crew of Moya were. Aeryn's eyes moved around the room, trying to catch the gaze of each person present in turn, inviting them to speak up. No one challenged Aeryn's assessment.

"Fine. Lieutenant Nybar, start drawing up evacuation plans, and bring them to me to review when they are ready …" Aeryn ordered.

Nybar nodded and the meeting began to break up. Aeryn and John remained seated, casting glances at each other as though trying to share unspoken thoughts.

"I need to stay." Aeryn stated flatly and determinedly to Nybar as he reached the door. "We need to try to keep a diplomatic channel open with Earth. The risks are much reduced if we only have a minimal presence here." He nodded and left, it not being his place or style to question her orders.

"I can't let you do that…" John began with some agitation now that they were finally alone.

"I have to, John," Aeryn interrupted him in a tone, which implied that she would stand no argument. "It is my duty."

"I can't let you do that alone…." John finished his sentence, taking her hand and gently stroking the edge of it with his thumb. "Besides, how're you gonna cope with all the crazy Erp-stuff if I'm not there to explain it to you?"

Aeryn squeezed his hand back, disoriented but grateful that the expected attack on her decision had actually turned into support.

"Oh, I'm sure that Louisa will manage." Aeryn replied with a little half-grin, trying to make the most of the situation.

"What d'you reckon about the kids?" John continued, more serious now. "Earth with us… or Moya?"

John and Aeryn locked eyes again for a moment. Frell, the kids really did complicate things. They could each see what the other was thinking.

"There are risks either way…" Aeryn began and then trailed off. She didn't need to explain to John what those risks were: the unknown dangers in space or the myriad threats on Earth.

"But you think we ought to stick together as a family?" John suggested gently. Aeryn nodded. She normally deferred to John in family matters, but every part of her screamed that when things got scary, she and John, and now the children too, had to stay together.

"We should ask them. But that was what I was thinking. We stick together. Bad things happen when we are apart." Aeryn replied, biting her lip, remembering all of the bad things that had indeed happened to them when they had not been there to watch over each other. She didn't want to consider that bad things had also happened when they were together.

John looked around him checking that they really were now alone, so that she wouldn't get embarrassed, then reached over, stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and then pulled her head and shoulders into a supportive hug.

'~'

Moya's docking bay was crowded with friends and crew who had come to see the Sun-Crichtons off. Their bags and a few last supplies and items of equipment were already stowed, divided between the Marauder and the Leviathan transport pod, which Aeryn and John respectively were going to be flying down to the embassy compound. A handful of Peacekeepers were still planetside, providing a continuity of staffing for the embassy compound, but they would be heading up on a different pod later that day. Once the last pod had docked the plan was that within the arn and without announcement, lest someone hostile might be listening, Moya would then head for the wormhole and back to Peacekeeper space.

Chiana left Sikozu and Lieutenant Nybar to conduct their few last formal exchanges with Aeryn and concentrated on saying goodbye to John, D'Argo and Livvy. It wasn't that she didn't want to cling on to Aeryn, too, but she could appreciate that Aeryn would find it very difficult to deal with an emotional farewell in front of so many others, especially in front of so many Peacekeepers. Together with Pilot, they had said their farewells in the privacy of Pilot's den an arn earlier, with both Chiana and Pilot promising to return to Earth just as soon as they could possibly manage. Besides, there were compensations to Aeryn being busy with Nybar and Sikozu: Chiana didn't mind having John and the narls more to herself this one time.

'~'

Aeryn was just finishing giving a few last orders to Nybar, noting that Chiana and Livvy were locked in a tight hug, when there was a small commotion in the crowd of Peacekeepers standing behind Sikozu. Aeryn's words trailed off as her brain processed the most unexpected turn of events.

Lieutenant Pittach shouldered her way to the front of the assembled crew, dressed in a prowler flight suit and with a large duffel slung over one shoulder. She stopped next to Sikozu and met Aeryn's curious stare with a determined look of her own.

"Ma'am…. Requesting permission to remain… on Earth… with you." Aeryn's stare slowly turned into a frown. This was a most unusual turn of events, doubly so for a Peacekeeper. Junior officers simply didn't impose on their seniors in such a manner. It looked like Erp-ways, or were they Aeryn-ways, were rubbing off on the woman? Then Aeryn remembered: Pittach had been involved with Kovack. That was almost certainly a factor contributing to the young officer's actions. "As your personal aide and bodyguard." Pittach explained. Her stated reasons, Aeryn now appreciated, were likely slightly disingenuous, but nonetheless tempting. "Besides, it would be sensible to have a Prowler in addition to the other two vessels….And if you have a Prowler you will need a pilot."

Aeryn vacillated as to what to do for a moment before deciding to accept the Lieutenant's somewhat impertinent suggestion. She could see so much of herself in the young woman. She didn't have the heart to turn her down, to dash her hopes and strain her loyalty. And besides, Meila was right: a Peacekeeper aide might be a great help to her in the weekens ahead and having a second armed craft available, along with the pilot to fly it, would be reassuring. And, she hoped, having just one more Peacekeeper on the planet in addition to herself wouldn't significantly add to the risks of her people being set up by their unknown enemies.

"Permission granted," Aeryn replied with a brief nod and the slightest of smiles. At that, the whole hangar deck seemed to let out the collective breath they had been holding for the last few microts. It seemed that no one had wanted to leave their captain and her family alone on Earth, although all had understood both the reasons that they needed to leave and why the ambassador felt that she needed to stay. As one of their own, Pittach would be carrying the concerns and desires of the whole crew on her shoulders.

'~'

Aeryn gently stroked her pet ball python, a present from Ramie, the barkeep who had befriended them when they had been on the run and looking for their children, monens earlier. She fed the animal a titbit as she sat in her study with John, listening to transmissions from Moya.

"Captain!" Nybar's voice crackled over the communicator, filling Aeryn's study in the mansion. "We're at the coordinates, but the beacon has gone."

John and Aeryn exchanged worried glances at that remark. John even set down his coffee. That would explain why they had lost its signal two days ago.

"Gone gone, or…..?" John began to ask.

"Sensors are picking up debris…. Could be the beacon." Nybar replied.

"Frell!" Aeryn hissed quietly. John shot her a glance and motioned with a downwards wave of his hand for her to keep her worries to herself rather than risk causing Nybar to waver from his purpose.

"Hamm, the wormhole should be open in…" John glanced at his watch. "About 200 microts. Just hold position."

"And keep a couple of armed ships at action-stations." Aeryn contributed, glaring angrily at John for intervening in her chain of command. Even as she was finishing her order, a babble of noises from the speaker on her desk communicated that a commotion seemed to break out aboard Moya.

"Nybar, what's going on?!" Aeryn demanded, setting down her snake and standing up, frustrated that those were the only actions open to her. The commotion continued, growing louder and more frantic. What sounded like a couple of explosions could be heard coming from Moya, through the speaker. "Nybar!" Aeryn nearly shouted. "Pilot! Anyone!"

"Captain Sun, Moya has come under attack!" Pilot's voice came through, stress obvious both from his tone and choice of appellation. "Lieutenant Nybar is attempting to launch ships, and my sensors are showing that the wormhole is starting to open….."

"Pilot, how many ships are attacking? What type are they?!" Aeryn called out. John edged closer to her.

"That is not clear at this moment. We did not see them at first. Moya has been injured and sensors are….." the transmission was abruptly cut. After a few microts it was clear it was not going to be resumed any time soon. John closed the remaining few paces, coming up behind Aeryn and wrapping her in his arms. She pulled them around her, bringing him close behind and around her and wrapping herself in a comforting cloak of John.

"I'm sure they'll be fine, hon," he whispered into her hair. Of course he had no means of knowing that. It was just his groundless, human optimism, but for once she was grateful for it. He didn't need to say that, had they been aboard, their presence there would unlikely have meant anything more than they would have shared in Moya's fate, whatever it might be. "Nothing we can do now but sit tight and wait for the cavalry."

'~'

Aeryn mentally and emotionally braced herself, sitting bolt upright in her chair, as once again she found herself surrounded by less than friendly human faces in a meeting room at the State Department. Just as when she had talked, a few days earlier, about the attack on the diplomats' pod, now that she had told them about the attack on Moya she had not detected a shred of sympathy from any of them.

"It seems possible that those responsible may contact you. However, these people, whoever they are, are not to be trusted." Aeryn restated for the benefit of anyone who had not been present at the previous meeting or had not grasped her introductory speech. "They have now attacked two unarmed vessels, without warning, causing untold deaths."

"So, now you're cut off? Alone here on Earth?" A senator asked. "You and…. Is it….?" He checked some paperwork in front of him. "Just the one aide?" The malevolent smile, which accompanied those questions, was clearly meant to intimidate. It didn't work. She had been brought up as a Peacekeeper and spent years as a fugitive: A largely powerless functionary held no fears for her. She stared back at him. After a short while he broke eye contact, blustering to save face as he feigned glancing back at his papers.

The lack of Peacekeepers on Earth had meant that Aeryn had had to travel to the meeting almost alone, whilst Pittach remained on duty at the embassy. Instead of her usual retinue of Peacekeeper aides, her only company had been John and one of Louisa's human subordinates, both of whom had had to wait outside once they had got to the meeting room at the State Department. She was fairly certain that the changes in her entourage had not gone un-noticed. Sadly for the senator and his colleagues, though, Aeryn was made of much sterner stuff than could be intimidated by a collection of comfortable, smug old men. She had faced down Captains Crais and Jenek, Emperor Staleek and War Minister Akhna. A group of mostly elderly, corpulent humans held no fears for her no matter how verbally or politically hostile they might be.

"Senator, rest assured that, should Moya not have made it through the wormhole, and should Peacekeeper High Command not hear from us at the expected time, I will not be abandoned here. The Peacekeepers will investigate." He looked up, allowing her to fix the senator with a gimlet stare, challenging him in case he was still inclined to be thinking of anything unfriendly. Or, rather, acting on any of the unfriendly thoughts, which he was so obviously harbouring. "And I am confident that any expedition that they send will be prepared to deal with any trouble." She concluded resolutely, gaining some satisfaction from seeing him squirm slightly at her words and glare. "Much as it was last..." she paused, remembering at the last microt to use the human word. "Year."

A silence fell across the room. Aeryn allowed herself to smile as she took command of the meeting. "Now, shall we move on to the rest of the agenda?" She enquired.

'~'

"I'll fly," John insisted gently as he, Aeryn and their human personal assistant boarded the transport pod. He didn't need to add that her meeting had left her looking too stressed and angry to pilot.

"The administration won't listen!" Aeryn snapped back in Sebacean, uncharacteristically acquiescing to John's suggestion that he should drive by flinging herself into the co-pilot's seat. "This is just one big frelling game to them! All just to see what short-term advantage they can extract!"

John sat, casting a glance back over his shoulder to check that the third person in their group, a young human female, tottering along encumbered by high heels and a tight skirt, had safely seated herself. She had. He sighed heavily. Some things never changed.

"That's as may be…" He continued, returning his attention to his wife and the pod's controls before Aeryn might think he had other reasons for looking at the young woman.

"If the hostiles want to hurt the Peacekeepers, or drive a wedge between us and Earth, then these drannits are playing right into their hands!" Aeryn ranted onwards, still using Sebacean, presumably to ensure a little privacy from their human companion, who John knew had not been given translator microbes, or at least not been given them by their people. He caught that particular paranoid thought and stashed it away. He'd left twisted thinking like that behind him cycles ago, or so he had thought before they had returned to Earth and considered his state of mind all the better for doing so. "If they attacked the humans now and made it look like it was us….! Well, we couldn't stop them and we would be defenceless against any major reprisals."

She was right: Whoever was behind the attacks on the embassy seemed to have all of the odds and prevailing human public opinion on their side: He'd seen plenty of stories about his family, the embassy and Peacekeepers and they were seldom sympathetic. It was time to take back the initiative, John decided, as he eased the pod into the sky.

"I've an idea. I'll talk to Lousia, see if she can get me back on the Tonight Show. And you, too." He added quickly, his plan filling out even as he spoke.

Aeryn fell silent, frowning at him. He knew that she knew that his last appearance on that frelling show hadn't gone well by any measure, so she was doubtless wondering what farbot plan he had come up with now to make him want to risk repeating the experience.

"Trust me," John grinned nervously and not very convincingly. "Everything's going to be just fine."

Aeryn groaned and beat her head gently back against her head rest until John snagged her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.


	3. Chapter 3

Although there was no evidence that any hostile ships had travelled the wormhole with Moya, far less followed her through her subsequent starburst, the Peacekeeper command carrier took a close, protective station alongside the battle-scarred Leviathan. A swarm of smaller craft flitted around, completing a defensive umbrella surrounding the unarmed vessel. Admiral Zobrek's Marauder passed between the two, deliberately anonymous amongst the swarm of other craft, lest any other invisible, hostile craft might be watching and waiting for a chance to claim a high-value prize.

Zobrek was met in Moya's docking bay by Sikozu and by Zobrek's own one-time executive officer, Hamm Nybar.

"Admiral!" Nybar saluted her in greeting. "Thank you for your swift response to our distress call," he continued gesturing that they should move towards the exit from the docking bay.

Zobrek nodded and fell into step beside Nybar, with Sikozu scurrying along behind, trying to draw level with the pair and walk and talk on equal terms.

"You transmitted the 'Kappa Nine Dak' code?" Zobrek said, referring to the code use to indicate that there was some important intelligence to discuss which was too sensitive to transmit, even on a coded channel.

"Admiral," Nybar confirmed with a nod. "You will, of course, have seen that we have suffered damage?"

"And that Ambassador Sun is not here to meet me. Where is Aeryn?

"She is still on Earth," Sikozu butted in. Nybar scowled, unhappy that the Kalish had dared to interrupt his conversation with the admiral. Zobrek raised a questioning eyebrow but, as it was obvious to her that whatever they had to tell her was of the greatest sensitivity, she resisted asking for more details until they had passed through a door guarded by a pair of Peacekeeper sentries and into a secure area beyond.

"It is just our people beyond this point," Nybar explained, glancing disapprovingly at Sikozu. His expression betrayed that he was not happy with her presence and, had Moya been a strictly Peacekeeper vessel, he would not have allowed her to follow them, regardless of the cycles they had spent together.

"So, why is Aeryn still on Earth?" Zobrek asked, even as they made their way towards another larger door with a second pair of Peacekeeper guards stationed outside.

"We came under repeated attack from unknown hostile elements and she sent us back here." Sikozu supplied, swiping the door open and entering ahead of the admiral.

"To warn High Command and analyse some of the evidence we obtained on Earth." Nybar contributed, waiting until Zobrek had passed through the door before following himself. "And to minimize the risks to our people and interests on the other side of the wormhole."

"Then Moya was attacked just as we were about to head through the wormhole." Sikozu continued.

"We neutralised the ship attacking us in the mouth of the wormhole." Nybar put in, not bothering to hide or temper the glare he shot Sikozu's way. From her demeanour, Sikozu obviously didn't care what he was thinking and was not in the least perturbed.

"But why all the secrecy? If someone is attacking Peacekeeper ships and installations…?"

"You need to see the ship and the bodies of the crew, then you will understand our concerns." Nybar explained. Sikozu reached forward and swiped a final door control. The hatch swung open, displaying the docking bay aboard Moya where the wreck of the attacking ship had been brought just before they'd entered the wormhole.

Zobrek stared at the debris within in silence, her wordless, visual evaluation stretching out for maybe 20 microts or more. "I don't recognise…." She stepped further inside, moving closer and falling silent again.

"It doesn't exactly match any ship we have on file," Sikozu pointed towards various parts of the wreckage as she kept pace with Zobrek. "There are some similarities with Peacekeeper, Eidelon and Scarran technology."

"Among others," Nybar added, standing back a little as though unwilling to get too close. "We haven't been able to work out yet how, or even if, they were able to traverse wormholes…"

"But the really interesting thing is the crew." Sikozu beckoned Zobrek to follow her. They stopped in front of a set of cold storage crates and Nybar indicated to an attending Peacekeeper tech that she should open two of them. Zobrek watched him carefully, noting that he kept a careful distance from the crates, perhaps even more so than from the wreckage.

Turning her attention from the lieutenant, Zobrek peered inside the first casket, impatient for the clouds of vapour to clear so that she could see clearly.

"Frell me dead!" Zobrek exclaimed in surprise. "Scarrans!"

"Indeed," Nybar confirmed from several paces behind her. "But even that was not the most surprising thing."

"The crew comprised three Scarrans," Sikozu explained, comfortable enough with approaching the storage caskets to tap the opening mechanism on another for herself. Nybar and the tech bristled at her impertinence. "And," Sikozu paused and caught Zobrek's eye as her other hand fell on to the edge of the newly opened casket. She smiled as Zobrek let out a shocked gasp. "An Eidelon."

'~'

Aeryn tossed and turned, trying and failing to return to sleep. She reached out a hand to turn the bedside clock slightly so that she could see the time.

2.44 am.

Frell. She slumped back down onto the curiously temporarily comfortless bed. A moment later John stirred behind her, shifting position. A large, well-muscled arm stole around her shoulder just as the body that the arm belonged to spooned into her back. She hadn't realised he was awake.

"Would a hug help you sleep?" John purred into her hair. She knew that, much though he normally loved snuffling into her hair, he found it difficult to cope with her locks when they were cuddling in such a manner. To help him she swept one hand round her head, to remove the hair from his face. Her other hand, the one more trapped against the mattress, clasped his hand and pulled his arm in closer to her body until their interlinked fingers nestled at the base of her throat.

"Anything in particular keeping you awake?" He enquired. She wiggled her hips back, tighter into his, to deepen the intimacy of the embrace.

"The situation with your government." She grumbled.

"Not worth losing sleep over," John replied. His other hand, its arm trapped between their bodies, was now gently rubbing the top of her shoulder.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, enjoying the various John-sensations from all over her body.

"Appeal to Caine's better nature?" John mumbled as he gently kissed the corner of her shoulder.

"I'm not sure he has one!" Aeryn scoffed.

"Then you should appeal to what all politicians want - election. Re-election. Voters like a success. We need to help him be a success." She ran that comment around her brain for a microt and found it made a great deal of sense. Satisfied, she pulled his hand up the extra dench or so to her lips and kissed it by way of thanks before returning it to its rightful place at her neck.

"Thank you, John." She replied, her free hand now joining the entwined pair at her neck as his nose nuzzled her nape for a few microts before stopping, to be replaced by the sort of deep, regular breathing sounds, which signalled that John had fallen back asleep.

Somehow the bed seemed to have got much more comfortable again, she thought, just before she, too drifted back off to sleep.

'~'

Admiral Zobrek frowned heavily as she paced back and forth around the Strategy room aboard Moya, not really wanting to believe the evidence that her own eyes had so recently seen. She had called across her own intelligence team from the Command Carrier and had them briefed. Now, after a short period of research and consideration, she had reconvened everyone to hear their initial assessments of the situation.

"Eidelons! And Scarrans? Together! How can that…? I don't understand!" She demanded of both Sikozu and her own chief of Intelligence. The Kalish sighed heavily and looked at the Peacekeeper lieutenant for support. The man and Umm'd and ahh'd in reply, cracking Sikozu's ever-fragile patience.

"All the analyses are in the reports, from me and from your intelligence officers, from the techs who examined the bodies and from the wreckage of the ship which followed us through the wormhole." Sikozu responded testily. "Nothing has been left out!" Zobrek fixed her with an arched eyebrow and a curved lip which veritably shouted 'I'm too senior to read all that dren, or put up with your insubordination, no matter how long we've known each other.'

"Summarize it for me!' Zobrek demanded, banging a fist on the wide, eye-shaped table. "How is it that Eidelons and Scarrans seem to be suddenly working together to attack our interests on the humans' planet?"

"We… we… Actually, we don't know." Sikozu admitted, casting her gaze downwards sheepishly.

Zobrek let out a long, resigned breath. She seemed to be counting to ten in her head. "Then perhaps we need to go and ask them?" she said at last, like a parent addressing a slow-witted child. "We'll start with the Eidelons."

'~'

"President Caine, thank you for agreeing to see me in private like this," Aeryn remarked as she was shown into a luxuriously-appointed office at the White House. Although she had entered the room alone, the meeting wasn't strictly in private: a single, civilian aide fluttered around the room, reminding Aeryn of the sort of attentive flunkies she had sometimes seen orbiting high-ranking Peacekeepers back in the bad old days. Her memories of her earlier life were reinforced further by the presence of what she took to be the President's Secret Service detail. The men in dark suits were clearly watching Aeryn like wary hawks.

Aeryn wasn't sure whether to be flattered, honoured or dismayed by the vigilant attentions of the guard detail. She knew that they would have been aware of her background as a soldier and, of course, and perhaps more relevant, as an alleged assassin. On the other hand, cognizant of all of that and determined not to present herself as an object of suspicion, she had done everything possible to look disarming. Her hair was down and loose, she was wearing the sort of cosmetics and personal adornments that local Earth-women wore. Frell, she had even worn a skirted outfit and pointy-heeled and toed shoes in the local style - she had spent many arns over the last six monens practicing how to walk in them and was now proud of her ability to totter along like a typical, hobbled Earth-woman. Even so, her appearance was far from being just her own work: her whole outfit had been carefully chosen by Louisa Bach to strike a balance between non-threatening and business-like. Bach had also braved Aeryn's rising tetchiness and ire for an arn earlier that day by applying the facial cosmetics called make-up to her boss.

Stepping into the office, Aeryn carefully negotiated her way onto and then across a deep pile rug without tripping or twisting her ankle and finally stood facing the president, feeling just a little proud of her achievements in getting there without ending up on her eema. She held out a hand towards him to shake in the human way. His grip was solid, but fleeting. A professional, well-practiced hand shaker, Aeryn remembered from their previous meetings. His handshake was just enough to convey that President Caine was a man to be taken seriously, yet no effort or time had been wasted beyond conveying that message. She smiled at the realisation that he had probably been coached on handshaking, just as Louisa had coached her on so many other things.

"Ambassador Sun, it is an honour and a pleasure to see you again." Caine gestured to a couple of overstuffed leather chairs, set at about an angle of about 135 degrees across a small, round wooden table laden with light refreshments.

His smile and greeting were fashioned from the same mould as his handshake. Aeryn carefully made her way across the room and then, wary of her unfamiliar and impractical clothing, cautiously seated herself in the chair indicated by the president. The aide fussed around for a few microts more, pouring tea for Aeryn and coffee for the president before settling nearby on a slightly less sumptuous two seater couch. The Secret Service agents none-too-subtly adjusted their positions to ensure that they had every angle covered, should Aeryn suddenly decide to assault Caine with a petit-four.

"Thank you for taking the time to see me at such short notice," Aeryn replied as she lifted her bone-china cup and unconsciously tested the temperature of the beverage within by laying her finger tips against its side.

"Keep your friends close…" Caine began, perhaps not expecting Aeryn to know the rest of that saying. Aeryn smiled broadly at him.

"And your enemies…?" she sipped at her tea, peering at him across the rim of the cup, looking for the flash of something in his eyes which showed that he knew that she knew the saying. She was not disappointed, but she had to grant that he hid his reaction well.

"Sometimes…" Caine seemed to be trying to figure out how to respond to that. "It's difficult to tell which is which. Best to keep your options open, I find."

"Indeed." Aeryn nodded and lowered the cup onto its saucer, which she held primly in her lap with her other hand. Louisa had coached her extensively over the monens, including regarding her body language. "Your people and mine do seem to have… my husband would say, 'got off on the wrong foot?' Again."

She cocked her head slightly to one side and waited for his answer, smiling, watching carefully, and trying to determine what he was thinking.

'~'

Caine had watched his visitor carefully since she had come through the door to the Oval office, and had been briefed in advance by his advisors on what they thought that she wanted to discuss. He knew what sort of woman she was, too: career military with extensive combat experience, consistent and a woman of her word, capable of extraordinary violence. His peoples' preparations had been so thorough that she had even been filmed during her short journey from the airfield to the White House, allowing his aides to brief him on such things as her appearance and whom she was accompanied by and what they thought it signified. Without their constant reminders, Caine might have found it easy to forget that she was not completely human, although he knew well enough that the scientists would say that the distinction was a fairly fine one.

"Indeed." She said, placing her teacup onto the saucer held primly in her lap. She cocked her head to one side and smiled disarmingly as though she were talking about last Sunday's fete at her local Episcopalian church. "Your people and mine do seem to have… my husband would say, 'got off on the wrong foot?' Again."

He was the most powerful man on the planet. No stone had been left unturned in his preparations for this meeting. And yet, damn her, she already seemed to have him at a disadvantage.

"You can hardly put the blame for that at my door," Caine replied, fighting against the compulsion to lose control in the face of her unexpected and as yet incomprehensible approach to their meeting. Despite his best efforts he was still vaguely aware that he was broadcasting his feelings by leaning his forearms on his thighs and lacing his fingers, steepling them towards her. Caine hadn't got to his position, however, by allowing himself to be thrown off by either a pretty woman or an unexpected conversation. He was surprised to notice how riled Aeryn Sun had managed to get him with what could be thought of as polite manners and fairly neutral remarks. He paused for a moment, leaning back and falling silent as he consciously took control of his own words and body language.

"Indeed, I believe your statement is correct," she replied coolly as he took stock, although something in the confidence of her manner gave him further pause for thought. Her words seemed apologetic, but his reading of her was that her body language and tone were not. And yet he had been briefed that her likely intention was to come across as agreeable and non-threatening. What the hell was she up to? Maybe she had just chosen her words poorly earlier and had not meant to rile him? He reminded himself that English was not her first language. He was used to the occasional faux pas when conversing with foreigners without the intervention of professional interpreters. Yes, that would fit with everything else, after all.

"Then you accept…." Caine smiled from one side of his mouth in anticipation of a small victory. The woman opposite him held up and imperious finger then seemed to take a deep breath. Damn her, she was doing it again - confusing him, putting him on the back foot, taking charge. He was the one supposed to be in charge here!

"It is not in your interest, President Caine, to alienate a potential ally, especially one from whom you stand to gain much as you do from us. Nor to seek conflict with a superior military force. Indeed, I would say that your best interests in fact lie in being able to point to benefits gained from a relationship with my people."

"Go on," Caine frowned, wondering where Sun was going with this: Olive branch or posturing? But he wasn't a successful politician for nothing. He knew that when your opponent was laying down their own cards you kept a straight face and a quiet tongue. He also knew that Sun was no politician - she was a military pilot, a career soldier. Even if rumours were true and she had once been an assassin, a covert operative, that wasn't a job, which required subtlety with words. He told himself that he could exert the upper hand in their conversation at any time should he so choose. Well, maybe not at any time, based on the evidence of their meeting so far, but any time that he really wanted to, her tried to convince himself.

"However, I believe that there are those close to you, within your administration, even, whose interests differ from your own and, I would suggest, the greater good of your country. Those people have political or business interests that they think would be better served by us not getting along, by you having nothing good to show for my peoples' presence here."

Caine nodded, not even venturing words this time to indicate that she should proceed. He gently inclined his arched, linked fingers towards her to invite her to continue. He couldn't fault her analysis: There was no such thing as a team player in politics. There was, as the saying went, no F in team. They seemed to be getting somewhere at last and he wanted to hear what she had to say next.

"I would suggest that those… divergent interests… have been too influential so far. Their agendas have been at the forefront," the ambassador paused and lifted her cup to take a sip of tea. He took it as an obvious ploy to get him to speak.

"What do you propose?" Caine asked, encouraging her to continue without giving anything away of his own thoughts. This was a game he knew how to play.

"We need to work more closely together, to ensure that we both reap positive benefits from our relationship. We need to side-line those who might be pursuing a different agenda," Sun explained, lowering her cup. She paused again, cocking her head as if waiting for a reply from him.

"Do you have any more tangible proposals?" He had no intention of showing any of his own cards yet.

"Actually, I do. I would suggest, when my people return, that the Peacekeepers move quickly to set up a… consulate… here in Washington. As a symbol of how important this country is to us and to ensure better, more immediate lines of communication between us and your…. office. I think this would help us all to work on implementing things which are important to both of us."

"And in return?" Caine thought that he could at last see where she was coming from and what she wanted. It was an appealing proposition.

"Improved relations between us," her answer was much as he had expected, which was comforting. He noticed that she was probably being deliberately vague as to whether she meant improved relations between the pair of them personally, their governments or their races. She wasn't a politician, her intention probably covered all three anyway, even if his was more focussed. "Which would be reflected in my people being treated more like any other friendly power. For example, levels of surveillance and interference in our affairs would reduce. Our people would be free to come and go, do business and so forth like the citizens of any other ally."

"A very interesting proposal. It merits serious consideration." Caine brushed an imaginary mote from the knee of his trousers and gave the most miniscule of shrugs. It didn't do to agree to a deal too quickly or with excessive enthusiasm.

"I thought it might," Aeryn gave a broad smile, taking Caine by surprise with the degree to which the gesture transformed her features. "Besides, I seem to spend so much time in meetings in DC that I really ought to have an office and a bed of my own here…" She laughed and he found himself laughing back.

"My public relations advisor says that a first step would be for us to agree a plan to change the direction of what she calls the public narrative." Aeryn continued, crossing her legs and drawing his eyes momentarily to her frankly superb calves and ankles. "For us both to make friendly, rather than confrontational noises and to circulate a shared story on recent events."

Caine pulled his attention back to her face and half nodded, half shrugged still being deliberately non-committal despite his distracted good humour.

"Would you agree?" Sun pressed. Did she just flutter her eyelashes at him?

Caine returned her smile with a slight nod. Something about her had put him in an agreeable mood. Maybe it was the smile?

'~'

Admiral Zobrek's Command Carrier had been in orbit above Arnessk for nearly a whole fruitless, frustrating day, trying to negotiate an audience with the Eidelon hierarchy, before Chiana had taken matters into her own hands.

The day that they had spent waiting above the planet hadn't been entirely wasted, though, as it had allowed important news to reach them regarding the Scarrans. Reports had come back, through convoluted diplomatic channels and also through the even more convoluted channels favoured by disruptors. Taken together, they confirmed that the Scarrans claimed to have no ships like the one which had been captured by Moya's crew, no knowledge of the wormhole to Earth and no contact with the Eidelons beyond those officially sanctioned and required by the Quajaga peace treaty. The lizard people were, naturally, still actively seeking ways of peacefully securing supplies of Chrystherium, but there was no suggestion, from any source, that the Empire was in any way behind the attacks on the Peacekeeper diplomats in the Earth system.

Chiana hadn't cared about any of that: She was simply impatient to get the Eidelons and Peacekeepers talking in order to try to resolve the threat still hanging over her friends back on Earth. When over a day had passed since their arrival at Arnessk and it had become clear that things weren't proceeding according to her sense of urgency, she had taken one of Moya's pods and gone down to the planet herself. Faced with an agitated and unrelenting Chiana, who was unwilling to leave or consider any sort of delay to proceedings, the Eidelon hierarchs had conceded to meet with Admiral Zobrek within the arn in order to regain their peaceful equilibrium.

A quarter of an arn later, Zobrek had entered the temple's audience chamber, nodding in thanks and acknowledgement to Chiana, who had refused to leave until she witnessed with her own eyes that Zobrek had indeed met with the hierarchs. As good as her word, the Nebari was still seated on the dais, defiantly seeing through her threat, studiously ignored by those Eidelons present who were going about temple business. If Chiana had been in the employ of the Peacekeepers, Clow would have had to have implemented a severe punishment for her actions. That would have been unfortunate, as the admiral was grateful for what she had done. That Chiana was part of the informal, non-Peacekeeper crew of Moya, and so outside of her chain of command had saved them both from that embarrassment. Acting on a sudden whim, Zobrek caught Chiana's eye and beckoned for the young troublemaker to accompany her to the meeting. The woman had history with the peacemakers of Arnessk, after all, which might prove useful. Besides, Zobrek had been required by the hierarchs to attend the meeting without aides, and so asking Chiana along gave her both an ally and was, metaphorically, a gentle pantak jab at their hosts.

A female Eidelon, who Zobrek took to be a novice from her age and the colour of her robes, led them through the main chamber. They entered the relative gloom of a sporadically lit series of dark-walled passageways, which twisted and turned as they led deeper into the complex. Zobrek was glad that they were guests here rather than attackers: The passageways would have been a nightmare to negotiate for any unwelcome visitors. Their guide finally pushed aside a heavy drape, silently motioning for them to enter into a more private chamber. Zobrek's eyes struggled for a few microts, adapting to the, to her mind, perversely dim lighting within, before she made out the familiar form of Muoma. The Eidelon high priest and two of her most senior hierarchs - were those the right word for Eidelons, Zobrek briefly wondered? - were sitting on comfortable, but not sumptuous, couches, talking in quiet, earnest tones.

Muoma seemed to catch sight of one of her companions looking up and followed the man's eyes. She smiled faintly in welcome to Zobrek and Chiana.

"Admiral Zobrek, Chiana. It is, as ever, a pleasure to see you. Will you do us the honour…?" Muoma gestured with an open palm to a vacant spot on one of the couches. Zobrek was briefly impressed that the priestess had recognised her and remembered her name - they had only met three times before - until she remembered that she was expected. As Zobrek made her way forwards she could sense the young acolyte backing out behind her, through the curtains, as wordless now as she had been for their entire short time together.

"Thank you, Hierarch," Zobrek replied as she settled herself. She and Muoma continued to exchange the expected irrelevant pleasantries about the weather and when they had last eaten. Eventually their conversation meandered towards, but never seemed to quite reach, the true subject of their meeting. Although the Peacekeeper in Zobrek found it all a waste of time, the part of her which had made her Captain and now Admiral knew it to be a necessary evil when dealing with people less task-focussed than her own.

"Frell all this!" Chiana interjected angrily and without warning, taking even Zobrek by surprise. "I thought we were here to talk about Aeryn and John and the Eidelon body in Moya's docking bay!?"

There were a couple of embarrassed coughs from Muoma's cohorts. Zobrek allowed herself a sly smile, hopefully obscured by the dimness of the room. Bringing Chiana along had most likely saved her another half arn of empty words and small talk.

"A dead Eidelon?" a middle-aged male asked derisively, obviously sceptical regarding Chiana's claim.

"Yep, along with a clutch of Scarrans!" Chiana nodded vigorously. Zobrek's smile grew a little more. She would have to bring Chiana along to a few more meetings.

"They were all on a ship, of unknown design, in John Crichton's home system. They attacked Moya and, we believe, other Peacekeeper ships," Zobrek explained.

"The Eidelon was on this ship?" asked an incredulous older female.

"Isn't that what..?" Chiana began.

"With Scarrans. Attacking Peacekeepers." Zobrek confirmed. "The Scarran Empire is adamant that they were not behind the attack. Frankly, I believe them. As I said, the ship was not of any known design, including Scarran. We are speculating that this is some group, some alliance that has previously been unknown to us."

There was an uncomfortable silence while Muoma and her associates exchanged nervous glances.

"Surely… It could not be?" whispered an elderly male Eidelon.

"We had thought that the faction was no more. It was all so long ago," Muoma responded vaguely, more to herself than to her visitors or attendants, her evident shock leading her to lift the edge of the curtain over her thoughts.

"What the fre…" Chiana began. Zobrek raised a hand to hush her. Now was the time in their conversation to gently to encourage revelations, not to cut them off with brashness or discourtesy.

"What faction?" Zobrek softly asked Muoma.

"Other Eidelons," Muoma replied not even looking at Zobrek. Her eyes darted around the dim chamber as though searching for something which was not there. There was a short silence. Zobrek sensed Chiana drawing breath, preparing to launch into some speech or other. Zobrek quietened the Nebari with a gentle hand on her knee.

"Not Quajaga Eidelons, you understand," put in the middle-aged male, breaking the silence.

"The Eidelon faction of neutrality."

"Another group that survived the original destruction of Arnessk." The older male paused and fixed Zobrek with a slightly accusatory look that quite surprised Zobrek. "By the Peacekeepers." He spat, in explanation of his belligerent stare. Zobrek stared back, unabashed. If the Eidelons had known something about this group all along and had decided not to share that knowledge with them, then she didn't see why she should be feeling any shame right now. She calmly waited for the next revelation.

"We believe there to have been a faction whose grudge against the Peacekeepers…" Muoma began, struggling to find the words to describe her thoughts. "Well, it may have found expression…. In the last ten cycles we have learned… Just as we originally engineered the Sebaceans, using specimens taken from Crichton's home world… It seems they may have used their knowledge, and the plants and animals that our forebears had gathered, to engineer another species….. To exact vengeance on the Peacekeepers," Muoma rambled, taking a deep breath as she seemed to finally get to the point.

"For what the Peacekeepers did at Arnessk," the middle-aged male added in an obvious attempt at clarification. Zobrek's mind raced. Where they really suggesting that, after the original destruction of Arnessk, a group of rogue Eidelons had created the Scarrans to exact vengeance on the Peacekeepers? Yes, it seemed that they really were!

"Scarrans….?" Chiana spoke softly, bitterly into the hush of the room. "It was Eidelons who created the Scarrans to get vengeance on the Peacekeepers?" One or two heads nodded. Zobrek could feel her own rage bubbling to the surface, barely under control. Why had the fekkiks never mentioned this before!?

During the uneasy silence that followed the oldest Eidelon doodled his fingers on the table, perhaps to distract and distance himself from the uncomfortable feelings that these revelations stirred in him. Well, frell him and his discomfort, Zobrek raged inwardly.

"Although we can only presume, if that is indeed what happened, that their plan backfired on them." Muoma began speaking again. "It seems likely to me that, should this be true, then once the Scarrans reached sentience, then they turned on their creators. Any links between the Scarran empire and the Eidelons seem long forgotten by the Scarrans. Certainly, the Scarrans have preserved no record or knowledge about their origins. And we are aware of no other Eidelons who survived Arnessk, other than those who hid on Quajaga. "

"Until now?" Zobrek remarked.

"Until now." Muoma nodded.

"Unless, of course, the body in our freezer is one of yours…?" Zobrek added, unable to resist the little dig. She was slightly pleased at the looks of horror and denial that she provoked on the faces of the hierarchs.

"So, what?" Chiana asked. "You think some of these Eidelons might have survived, maybe might have some… some Scarrans of their own?"

"Perhaps," The eldest Eidelon shrugged. Evidently he still didn't want to think long or hard about it.

Admiral Clow Zobrek was well aware that the expression on her face, made it clear that she didn't really want to believe it either. But it fit the facts, and what other explanations were there?

'~'

"On stage in ten minutes!" announced the chirpy young man with the radio headset, the trendy tablet computer and the expensive haircut.

John turned to Aeryn, who was remaining remarkably tolerant of the young human woman who was fussing at her hair. Maybe her time on Earth was mellowing her? "You ready, hon?"

Even as his wife nodded her assent, John's phone buzzed. Frowning, he pulled it out to take a look. The number was an unrecognised mobile phone, the message was a simple text with a video attached. "Keep our secrets safe, keep what you love safe." was all it said. Reddening John looked at the video. It was shaky and fuzzy - shot as discretely as possible from inside the embassy on a phone and had no real soundtrack. As the point of view of the video swung round and pointed out of a window John realised that the clip was recorded earlier that evening: it showed John, Aeryn and their entourage getting into their vehicles to leave for the studio. The implication was clear: we have people in your household. Don't talk about what you know, or we will hurt you or those close to you.

John shooed the hairdresser away from Aeryn. Once he was sure that they had some privacy he showed her the video and text, handing the phone to her to enable her to watch it. She paled for a microt then scrolled to a number on the phone.

John guessed she was going to call someone, most likely Pittach, and so he moved on to talk to his elderly father, who was sitting in the corner of the dressing room, entertaining baby Talyn. Jack had pretty much moved into the embassy about a month previously, and, since the departure of the Peacekeeper contingent, both John and Aeryn had come to rely on him as an impromptu babysitter for Talyn and one of the few people that they could trust implicitly. Whilst they had been happy leaving the older children in the capable hands of the remaining embassy staff for the evening, they planned to both be away for several arns and had been reluctant to leave Talyn for so long. So when Jack had offered to come along to the theatre to look after Talyn they had both jumped at the idea.

"Dad? You got a microt?" John asked his father, turning and settling down next to him so that he could keep an eye on everyone else in the room whilst they spoke.

'~'

Aeryn considered using the human mobile phone for a moment before discarding the idea. She wanted security, both in terms of her conversation being private and through using the sort of technology with which she was most comfortable. She unclipped her comms badge from the inside of her jacket and lifted it to her mouth.

"Meila," she said.

"Yes Captain? I mean Ambassador?" Pittach answered Aeryn's call almost immediately, speaking, naturally enough, in Sebacean. Aeryn looked around her. No one present should have translator microbes, except their own people. Speaking in Sebacean should afford them a little additional security. Although she couldn't dismiss the possibility that the room was bugged, she would have to take the chance. Nevertheless, she had no intention of carefully outlining her plans to any would-be eavesdroppers.

"Security at the mansion may have been compromised. Use my car and get the children to safety," Aeryn instructed, enigmatic in her choice of words in order to provide a further level of security. In Aeryn's experience, you couldn't be too careful.

"Understood." The younger woman answered, waiting on the line for Aeryn to hang up, in case there were further instructions.

"Understood," Jack echoed from the other side of the room, speaking to John. He may have been getting old, but Aeryn felt reassured that his decades in the military and space program meant that he was still a force to be reckoned with and to rely upon in a tricky situation. John nodded his thanks to his father, clapping Jack lightly on the shoulder before returning to Aeryn's side.

"That's all for now. Call me at your discretion," Aeryn dismissed Pittach, tracking John with her eyes as he approached and sat beside her.

"Dad's been warned. Are you still good to go through with this?" he asked her as she tucked her comms back inside her jacket and handed John back his phone.

"We must, John," she replied. "Anyway, we have people we can trust looking after us." She nodded towards Jack and Mills, the secret service agent hovering in the corner. Should they take the risk of bringing the two agents assigned to them that evening in on their concerns? Either they were in on the conspiracy against them, in which case they doubtless knew anyway, or they were not, in which case they would be most effective if they knew to be on guard. "Lieutenant Pittach knows what to do. But we had better warn Mills and Nixon to be vigilant."

John nodded. "But I'll keep an eye on them, just in case…." He said, echoing her thoughts and concerns.

"Of course," she agreed.

'~'

"Keep down and out of sight." Meila ordered Livvy and D'Argo, who were both squeezed into the small cockpit with her. It had not been built with two passengers in mind and conditions were made even more cramped by the small bag that each teenager had brought with them. Packing had been no chore: no matter where they travelled in the universe, Aeryn had always insisted that everyone kept a bag packed ready for an emergency departure. Not having to spend any time looking for things to pack had allowed them to leave swiftly and without fanfare, hopefully without making the obvious preparations that otherwise might have alerted any spy on the embassy staff.

Livvy's attempts to get comfortable on the small back seat were being foiled by something hard and angular in Pittach's duffel which was digging into her leg. Liv was pretty certain that Meila had brought a bag full of weapons, padded out by the most meagre personal belongings. The lieutenant could be just like her mum at times. Liv tried not to bump into D'Argo. He was sitting next to her on the back seat, frowning, concentrating hard as he manipulated what looked like a hand-held games console. Boys! Everything was a game to them. Pittach, like a grown-up, female version of D'Argo, sat holding the vehicle's controls in a light grip which belied what Liv knew would be her total focus on the job at hand.

Aeryn's heavily modified and distinctive Audi sports car passed through the side gate of the embassy compound and began picking up speed as it headed down the quiet country lane towards the interstate, a dozen miles or so away. There was no other traffic in sight and the car's high-powered head lamps, set to full beam, threw long cones of light out ahead, making grotesque, dancing patterns of light and dark as the road twisted and they cut through the trees and other clutter along the roadside.

Despite the care that they had taken not to be seen leaving the embassy, the sleek silver, black and red car managed to travel barely a mile from the compound before running into a deadly trap.

Bullets tore at the tyres, puncturing them but not stopping, or even significantly slowing the car. Pittach shrugged contemptuously at the amateurishness of the would-be ambushers and pressed on. Aeryn's car was, of course, equipped with appropriate protection, including armour plating, bullet-proof glass and run-flat tyres. The Audi would surely have made it through the gunfire, albeit a little worse for wear, had it not been for the two pickup trucks which quickly moved to physically block the road just around the next bend. The sports car rounded the corner at 65 mph, on already damaged tyres and with less than 200 yards to respond to the impromptu roadblock. Had the tyres not already been so compromised that sparse distance might have been enough tarmac to at least slow down and mitigate the impact. Instead, the car was still doing about 50 mph when it slammed into the tiny gap between the trucks, its bonnet trying and failing to force a way between them. One of the pickups sparked into flames almost immediately on impact, whilst Aeryn's car slewed sideways, spinning into the burning vehicle then bouncing back into the other. As the Audi finally came to a halt, a horrible silence fell, broken by the sounds of leaking fuel pouring onto the roadway and the insistent and mounting crackle of the flames.

'~'


	4. Chapter 4

Jack Crichton thanked the young production assistant for his coffee and got back to the serious business of reading Talyn The Gruffalo's Child. The woman nodded and got back to the serious business of tidying the hospitality suite and preparing it for the end of the show when it would be needed again. The only other occupant of the room for now was Agent Mills, one of the two Secret Service protection officers working with them that evening. Jack had found him a dull conversationalist in the car on the way over, so was in no hurry to try to talk to him again. The second agent, Nixon, was waiting in the wings, watching over Aeryn and John whilst they were on stage. The room itself was quite comfortable and well-appointed, as waiting rooms went, but was hardly Jack's idea of homely. Well, Jack reminded himself, he had come up north to spend time with Talyn and his other grandkids, so he could hardly complain when the opportunity presented itself.

"See, Talyn, d'you reckon the Big Bad mouse tricked the mean ole Gruffalo….?" Jack asked.

Talyn shrieked with laughter.

"Shall we find out?" Jack replied with a chuckle. He slowly turned the page.

'~'

Pungent, choking black smoke from burning tyres started to fill the air around the crash site. The surviving ambushers rushed frantically around the wreckage of the three vehicles, which were burning ever more fiercely with every passing second. They were torn between approaching the conflagration to rescue or finish off anyone who had survived the collision and keeping back in case there was an explosion.

They were all too preoccupied to notice the prowler approaching steadily from above and behind them, even had it not been doing so with all of its stealth systems activated. Ignoring the two teenagers straining to see over her shoulder, Lieutenant Pittach activated her targeting computer, selecting the anti-personal ground support function, and fired. The prowlers' weapons systems were not in the least perturbed by darkness, smoke or fire. A withering spider's web of pulse-weapon trails spread out from the spacecraft, settling to the ground in an instant and finding nearly a dozen targets. Within a couple of microts, all was dark and silent again, save the crackling of the still-burning vehicles and the fading sounds of the prowler's engines whispering on the wind as it flew onwards.

"Mom's gonna be so pissed at you for scratching her car," Livvy teased D'Argo as he shut down the remote control unit for the Audi. D'Argo winced slightly at the suggestion of their mother's ire then settled on studiously ignoring his sister.

"Who do you suppose they were?" D'Argo asked as Pittach banked the prowler to head south- southwest and activated the terrain-following autopilot.

"I'm sure the local agencies will find out," Pittach replied with a shrug. Sparing a microt to look away from her controls she noticed that Livvy remained silent and thoughtful. "Whether they will ever tell us the truth is another matter, of course." She added with bitter resignation.

Whatever group was responsible for the ambush, she and Captain Sun could at least derive some satisfaction that using the car as a decoy had flushed them out and cost their enemies dearly. However, seeing as there were no guarantees that they had accounted for all of the would-be-assassins' group, she would continue with the plan to take the captain's children to a safe house, there to await further instructions.

'~'

"So, Dr Crichton, Ambassador Sun… can I call you John and Aeryn?" Melissa Scott oozed as the theme music and the welcoming applause of the live studio audience subsided to the requisite level for sofa-bound chat to commence. John grunted in the affirmative and Aeryn nodded stiffly. "It's a real privilege to welcome you both to tonight's show, or should I say welcome you back, John?" John grunted again.

"We've both been looking forward to it, haven't we Aeryn?" John replied, finally seeming to remember that he had to speak. He squeezed Aeryn's hand supportively.

"Yes, indeed," she confirmed, momentarily drying up at the memories of another TV interview, cycles before. She hoped that John would sense her discomfort and continue to provide the responses, at least until she regained her equilibrium.

"It must be tough to keep coming back when some people have been going out of their way to be unpleasant?" Scott continued, as though channelling Aeryn's own thoughts.

"Well, yes, quite." Aeryn confirmed, risking a nervous and, she hoped, disarming smile.

"That's why coming on here to let your viewers hear our story is so important to us," John put in.

"I can understand that, I mean you and your people, I mean… well, anyway, you've been in the news quite a lot ever since you got here." Scott winked. "And there's been plenty said about you in the papers and on the web too. Not all of it very nice. Some of these stories…" she trailed off, leaving the words unsaid and giving John an 'in' to the conversation.

"Some of those things were just downright offensive." John put in, struggling to keep his demeanour affable. "I mean, I'm an all-American guy. I love my country - I've got friends and family…. If there was even a grain of truth in some of the stuff I've seen about Aeryn and the embassy, well d'ya think we'd really be married and all?" John finished, trying to lighten the seriousness of his words with a jokey, sing-song delivery. It was an interesting question, Aeryn thought to herself. After all some of what was written about her and her people was indeed true, or at least had been true, and John had not always been so keen on the Peacekeepers himself.

Scott opened her mouth to respond, doubtless employing the approach previously agreed with Louisa Bach to humanise Aeryn and present her as a loving wife and mother struggling but managing to balance a demanding career with a successful family life.

Scott's question was never asked or answered, though, for at that moment she put her hand to her earpiece in response to an urgent message. Her mouth snapped shut and she frowned then, seconds later, just as she seemed about to speak again, the fire alarm sounded. Aeryn looked around, concerned, half suspecting that this might be cover for some sort of attack. John was likewise looking around him and had already half pushed himself up out of his seat. Then the alarm stopped, as abruptly as it had begun.

As Aeryn caught the eye of Agent Nixon, who was already advancing towards his charges, gun drawn but shielded from view inside his jacket, Melissa Scott stood, directly addressing the audience.

"Now, keep calm, everyone. I'm afraid there has been a security alert and we're going to have to evacuate the theatre…."

"I'll bet dollars to donuts that our new best friends are behind this!" John grumbled to Aeryn as Agent Nixon did his professional best to get them safely and discretely out of the building. He had already fed back to John and Aeryn that Agent Mills had got Jack and Talyn out the back way, hopefully ahead of any crush, and was waiting for them at their vehicles in the open air parking lot.

"You will get no argument from me on that score," Aeryn replied, fending off an overtly panicky member of the production staff who was trying to get down the theatre's back stairs without apparent awareness of the fact that the route was already crowded with dozens of other people.

Slowly, steadily, they made their way towards the exit.

As they emerged into the fresh air of the car park, the attentions of Aeryn, John and Nixon were divided, as all were both on the lookout for the rest of their party and for possible threats. In the bustle and confusion all three of them overlooked the unremarkable young woman who seemingly approached Aeryn purely as a side effect of the milling crowd of evacuees bustling around them. She didn't show any sign of acknowledging Aeryn's presence until they were almost alongside each other.

"Aeryn!" John yelled in warning as he caught sight of the sudden flash of a blade in the woman's hand. The attacker had picked her approach perfectly - the two women were mere denches apart and both John and Agent Nixon were badly positioned to intervene. In a fraction of a microt the attacker's blade was swinging, slicing inwards and upwards towards Aeryn's heart. A nearby, middle-aged woman caught sight of what was happening and screamed, adding to the nightmarish horror of the scene.

Aeryn's Peacekeeper commando training may have been dulled by cycles of living a more comfortable life, but things had never been so comfortable and safe for her as to completely blunt her reactions. The speed with which she twisted her body and limbs, neutralising and parrying the attacker's lunge, was so great that it could only have been reflex in a typical human. As her would-be assassin began to tumble past her, Aeryn was already bringing her knee up and her arm down to strike at her attacker simultaneously from above and below.

The fracas was all over almost before anyone else had any time to react. The stunned assailant lay face down on the concrete of the parking lot, Aeryn's boot firmly planted between her shoulder blades, her knife dropped beside her. John moved swiftly, sliding the knife out of the woman's reach with one foot. Agent Nixon, having established that his charge did not need rescuing by him, scanned the crowd. They had already, like a single organism, started backing away from the scene, perhaps in case there should be a second attacker amongst them, perhaps out of fear of one or both of the combatants.

The attacker groaned and stirred, trying to move slightly. Aeryn responded by shoving her foot down, drawing a cry of pain from the woman squirming beneath her boot. The assailant subsided, but the slight exchange had caused her clothing and hair to become dishevelled. Aeryn peered at her, trying to make out who she might be.

"John, does she look familiar?" Aeryn asked calmly, pointing to the woman pinned beneath her. John peered over, then squatted to take a closer look. He reached his hand out, brushing hair aside and tugging at her collar trying to get a good look at her face. Blue eyes. Blue tinge around the eyes….

"Is it just me, or does she look a bit like Grayza?" John asked, his own eyebrows knotting.

"Hmm, maybe," Aeryn responded, cocking her head to get a better look at the face of her assailant.

"It wouldn't be surprising, really," John remarked, leaning closer to get a better look. "Seeing as how I reckon this actually IS her daughter and all!"

Aeryn recoiled at John's declaration, although the pressure exerted by her foot remained unchanged.

"Mother always said I look like both of my parents!" Yvonne Gray snarled back defiantly, if a little unclearly, since Aeryn was still pressing the side of her face into the damp concrete of the parking lot.

Aeryn clenched her jaw and fists, as though ready to do Yvonne Gray serious injury. Her physical reaction to her words, though, was nothing compared to John's. He seemed torn between recoiling in horror and succumbing to the urge to attack.

"Ma'am, Mr Crichton, the police will take it from here," Nixon interjected, pulling John back to his feet then moving to interpose himself between Crichton and the girl. The agent laid a couple of fingers on Aeryn's arm then pointed, indicating a couple of uniformed officers who were now pushing their way through the front line of the crowd. "And we should get you away from here to a place of safety, just in case."

"Talyn?" Aeryn asked, growing instantly more concerned once she remembered that there could be other threats in the vicinity and that she could not currently extend her protection to her youngest child. "There could be other attackers!"

"And Jack!?" John added.

"Both still safe, back at the vehicles," Nixon confirmed, urging them away from Grayza's daughter as the police moved in to take custody of her.

"What the frell do you think she meant by that?" Aeryn fumed as Nixon led them away. "BOTH my parents?" John had long ago told his wife about events on Arnessk, nearly two decades previously, and she found herself suddenly gripped with a mix of anger and what she knew was misplaced jealousy.

"I can't believe… That bitch is STILL on a mission to screw with me… From beyond the grave…!" John raged. He caught Nixon's elbow. "You gotta send an agent with her. We need to know everything she says. And she ought to have a FULL frelling medical!" He added, thinking, among other things, of the neural harness they had found implanted in Grayza.

Nixon rolled his shoulders and knotted his brows. He seemed about to say something back to John, but stopped himself. He tapped at his radio earpiece to make a call and forged ahead, breaking through the remaining crowd for his charges. They were just emerging from the throng, in sight of the two SUVs, when Nixon stopped abruptly. It was so unexpected that John almost walked into him. He tapped at the cream coiled wire of his radio earpiece. "Ma'am, I've just been told there's been a serious incident at the mansion….."

'~'

Mike Kovack was not in the least surprised when Lieutenant Pittach showed up at the door of his cabin with the two Sun-Crichton children in tow. Meila had called ahead on the secure communicator which Aeryn had given him months previously and filled him in as to what was going on. That gave him 20 minutes - enough time to quickly assess whether there were any obvious threats lurking in the vicinity of his isolated home, but not enough time to roll out the fluffy red welcome mat, not that he had one anyway. Twenty minutes was all the time he really needed, though.

Aeryn had instituted a number of contingency plans soon after the Embassy had been established and when she had heard about his nearby cabin, she had approached Kovack and, after some negotiation, had added it as an optional, temporary refuge. All of the necessary preparations for its use as a safe house had long since been discretely made.

Once Pittach had landed, the prowler had soon been hidden from sight under a pre-prepared camouflaged tarpaulin, which left the four of them free to go inside, turn on the alarm system and sit, talk and wait. And, in due course, to eat pizza raided from Kovack's freezer.

"So, do you reckon the ambushers are all dead?" Kovack asked as Meila finished her recounting of events that evening and the last of the pizza was claimed by D'Argo.

"Unless there is something wrong with the prowler's targeting system, then yes," was Pittach's business like reply. She had total faith in the reliability of Peacekeeper military technology and found that, despite her feelings for Kovack, she was a little affronted by someone questioning it.

"There'll be implications. Some people won't be happy. Other people'll be expecting answers," Kovack observed.

"Including my people," Pittach responded with a 'couldn't care less' shrug, a gesture that she had picked up during her stay on Earth. She was feeling somewhat defensive regarding her actions and was secretly nervous about where they might lead. "They attacked us, I was defending myself."

"Well, I just hope those in charge see it that way." Kovack remarked, not terribly helpfully. She glared at him in an attempt to make him realise that he had overstepped the bounds of acceptable pessimism.

"But don't we have this diplomatic immunity thing, anyway?" Livvy asked in an obvious attempt to be included in the adults' conversation.

"Thank you, Olivia," Meila replied.

"Shootin' people up with a prowler might be stretching the limits of that immunity." Kovack stated. Pittach and Livvy both frowned at how humans could be so un-Peacekeeper-like, and how men could be so dumb respectively, whilst D'Argo apparently let it all pass him by, focussing his attention on his slice of pizza. "Just saying, is all. Who were they anyway?"

"I have no frelling idea," Pittach replied, openly glaring daggers at Kovack now. "Hostiles."

"Just hope they weren't officially sanctioned in any way," Kovack responded.

"Would it matter if they were?" D'Argo paused from eating to finally break his silence. He had a point: surely the human authorities would never admit to sending a team to attack them?

"Well, only in as much as, if they were, then you…. we… are going to be in for a whole heap more trouble," Kovack tried to explain. "Because they'll surely send another team after us, and they won't let up till they succeed or you're out of reach."

"Then we shall have to make sure we are prepared for such eventualities," Pittach replied, all cold Peacekeeper efficiency as she unholstered the pulse pistol from her thigh and checked that it was in order.

'~'

D'Argo was jerked from the edge of sleep as his unsupported head dropped suddenly. In an instant he was wide awake again. Livvy was yawning noisily. Lieutenant Pittach was checking yet another of her many weapons and lecturing Kovack. She really could be just like mum, he thought to himself.

"Come on, young lady, you look like you're about ready for bed. You OK with the couch, Dee?" Kovack asked, noticing both of the youngsters' exhaustion and evidently pleased for an opportunity to escape from Pittach's lecturing.

"Yeah, sure, couch is fine," D'Argo acquiesced: It was only right that Liv, as the younger and more tired of the two, should have the spare bedroom. That Pittach would be sharing Kovack's bed was not in any doubt to his Peacekeeper-raised sensibilities. However, looking at the grim expression on her face it seemed unlikely that there would be much recreating going on unless he could somehow placate the young lieutenant in the 10 minutes or so it would take them to sort out sleeping arrangements.

'~'

D'Argo kicked the blankets off his legs, rolled from the couch and fumbled in the darkness for the pulse pistol that Lieutenant Pittach had left on the floor beside him. The house's quiet but insistent alarm had barely sounded for a few microts before being prematurely silenced. Nevertheless, it had sounded long enough to serve its purpose by alerting them that their perimeter had been breached. They had visitors. Visitors who didn't know the correct procedure for making themselves welcome.

He found the heavy pulse pistol and hefted it in both hands, flicking off the safety catch just as he had been taught. One thing his mother had made sure of was that he knew how to handle a variety of weapons. As he readied his gun he caught sight of a large shadow flitting past the window, heading towards the French doors which led into the living room. He hoped the others had heard the alarm, but regardless, it looked like he was going to have to deal with the intruder himself, at least to begin with. He took aim at the shadow outside. A microt later the doors flew inwards in a cascade of shattering glass as a huge, hulking figure threw itself into the living room.

D'Argo needed no further encouragement to act to defend himself, his sister and the two adults in the rooms to either side of him. Acting just as his mother and shipmates had trained him to do since he was old enough to hold a gun, he squeezed off a trio of shots, aiming for the centre of the attacker's torso. The shots would have torn a human in half, but, to D'Argo's horror, the figure charged on into the room, apparently undaunted.

Just then, D'Argo became aware of Pittach and Kovack as they emerged from their bedroom, off to the left. The living area was immediately filled with the ear-splitting bangs of a human handgun being discharged. Astoundingly, and to D'Argo's great relief, the primitive weapon seemed to be enough to stop D'Argo's attacker where his pulse pistol had not. Their intruder was knocked backwards by a motra and tumbled, collapsing across the back of the sofa, twitching and groaning.

D'Argo had no time to celebrate, though, because by now two more similar, huge figures were in the doorway, both with their arms raised, one towards him, the other towards Lieutenant Pittach and Mr Kovack. The room suddenly grew unimaginably hot and D'Argo heard Lieutenant Pittach scream in agony even as D'Argo crumpled to the ground himself, overcome by the furnace-like heat enveloping him.

As he fell towards the floor D'Argo finally caught clear sight of their assailants: they were Scarrans! Scarrans, here on Earth! But how, and why? How could they be behind all of this? It made no sense! He was unable to ponder the mystery further because that was when he passed out.

'~'

D'Argo awoke and instantly regretted it. He felt like dren - worse than the morning after the time that Auntie Chi had 'accidentally' let him get drunk about a cycle earlier. He struggled to recover from the nauseating, all-enveloping heat which seemed to fill the room, barely able to mount any resistance as he, Pittach and Kovack were swiftly trussed up. As one of their assailants finished binding him he caught sight of another figure dragging the corpse of their first attacker off outside, through the broken French doors. He looked around and allowed himself some small crumb of relief that, so far, there was no sign of Liv.

Someone switched the living room lights on and, a few microts later, he heard what seemed to be two new sets of footsteps entering the room. From what he could tell from the deference of the Scarrans, the newcomers were the ones in charge. D'Argo twisted his head so he could see the mirror above the fireplace in order to steal a glance at their faces. When he finally got a clear view of them his mind rebelled against what he saw - he recognized their species alright, as soon as he saw them, but how could it be? It was even more incomprehensible than the presence of the Scarrans. How, why could they be behind these attacks? And how come they were in league with the Scarrans?

Before he could cry out in surprise or question the newcomers another wave of heat swept over him and he lost consciousness once again.

'~'

"That was my colleague, the agent who met us in the car park. He tried to accompany Yvonne Gray to the police station." Agent Mills snapped his phone shut and leaned across in order to better address the Ambassador and her husband. "If that is who she really was. Said the cops wouldn't let him ride along." He ground his teeth in irritation. "Anyway, after we left, she got pretty hysterical, apparently, spouting all sorts of nonsense: Stuff about a temple and a load of idols and a massacre. And priests escaping and wanting to take revenge on the Peacekeepers by feeding lizard people flowers from the planet you're from…."

John and Aeryn locked gazes for a microt. Even in the dark they could tell they were sharing similar thoughts.

"Make any sense?" Mills asked after a short pause. "I didn't think your people came from a planet."

"We don't. Apart from Earth," Aeryn responded, preoccupied with piloting the ungainly Earth land transport.

"Not really," John added, choosing his words more carefully. "He get anything sensible - y'know, motives, whether she's linked to the group near the embassy?"

"Sounds like she's high on drugs or something." Mills shrugged.

"Sounds like it…." John agreed, stony-faced.

"This isn't the way to the embassy," Mills added with a frown of recognition as they passed a large road sign.

"No, it's not." Aeryn replied, not wavering from her concentration on the task of driving the large SUV.

"We're off to get our kids," John explained. "Top priority."

'~'

"Where are the other ones?" D'Argo heard an unfamiliar voice demand shrilly as his consciousness reluctantly returned once again. He was vaguely aware that the voice could not be addressing him, but that didn't make him feel any better. He forced his eyes open in order to find out what was going on.

"What others…? There are no others!" He heard Meila Pittach snarl defiantly. D'Argo craned around to see her. Her lips were bloodied and clothes ripped. She and Kovack were both kneeling beside the smaller couch, their arms bound behind their backs. The blood, restraints and torn clothes spoke volumes to D'Argo as to how gentle their captors had been with them. One of their two human-like captors gestured to someone behind them and the air around Pittach hazed, causing her to writhe and cry out in pain.

"Where is Sun's daughter and baby!? We know they were with you!" The interrogator barked.

"I… don't…. know…!" Meila ground out between clenched teeth as a haze of heat enveloped her. The heat-assault stopped and she tumbled forward, retching into the carpet and convulsing. Those stains were going to be tough to get out.

"Bastard!" Kovack spat angrily. The interrogators ignored him. Having, for now, at least, exhausted Lieutenant Pittach as a line of enquiry, they had noticed that D'Argo had awoken and had turned their attentions to him.

"No! He's just a kid!" D'Argo heard Kovack cry out as a pair of scaly hands tugged him up onto his knees. Then the unbearable heat washed over him once again.

'~'

Livvy Sun had been torn from her sleep by the sound of the commotion next door. Instantly awake, she began enacting the lessons which had been driven into her since her early childhood: In the event of an attack, even the suspicion of an attack, evade and hide, gather intelligence and resources if possible. Then, once you understand the situation, either escape or strike back.

Whoever was attacking Kovack's residence was coming from outside. That meant that leaving the building now would only expose her to the attackers. So, she had to seek refuge in the house somehow. That would be hard, but a lifetime of learning how to hide aboard Moya had not been wasted on her.

Before the fight in the living room was even over she had squeezed into the closet and from there into a ventilation duct, so narrow that it was tight even for her small frame. Not that she wasn't used to doing such things. It was just like Moya, really, but with more dirt and no DRDs. And real, live monsters out there, of course, hurting her brother and the two grown-ups.

Taking special care not to make a noise and so betray her location, she slowly edged around the cabin through the ducts, trying to remember all the things her mother had taught her about such situations and block out the disturbing sounds ringing in her ears.

'~'


	5. Chapter 5

"They are not replying to my call," Aeryn scowled as John drove their SUV along the final few miles towards Kovack's house.

"Don't you think we should alert the authorities?" Jack asked from the back seat. It had been half an arn since they had stopped to switch to fresh drivers, and Aeryn and John had taken that opportunity to ensure that their family were all in the same vehicle. Not only did they feel more in control that way, it also allowed them to talk without being overheard.

"What if there IS a problem and the authorities are behind it?" John replied, his estimation of his own people sinking to a new low.

Aeryn conceded his point with a nod. "Nevertheless, we ought to inform someone. If we choose the right people, we can at least make matters no worse, and perhaps give ourselves a Plan B. Nixon, Mills… these at least I think we can trust now." She finished, indicating the agents, both of whom were now riding in the second vehicle, following along behind them.

John nodded and Aeryn began to make the call to inform the agents that they could not contact the safe house. As soon as she had finished, John pointed to something beyond the windscreen. "Look, hon, there's a ship over there. You don't see too many spaceships in the 'burbs," he paused and frowned. "And I don't recognise the design."

"Me neither." Aeryn confirmed through gritted teeth.

"Then we'd best be careful. Seems like, whoever they are, they've neutralised Pittach and Kovack, otherwise I reckon they'd answer the damn phone…."

"Son, Aeryn, maybe we should wait. Call someone in. Let them deal with it?" Jack persisted.

Aeryn didn't verbally reply, but grimly picked up the small pulse rifle that was racked in the footwell and began checking it. After a few seconds of watching her, Jack got the message.

'~'

Livvy couldn't afford to tarry in Kovack's bedchamber: She now knew that there were three Scarrans and, even more unbelievably, what appeared to be two Eidelons, in the house. They seemed intent on interrogating her brother and the two adults. Worryingly, one of the things they seemed most keen to learn was her own location. She knew enough about both species attacking them to understand that they had ways of making people tell them what they wanted to know, which meant that her time to act was short. One of them could return to the room at any time, and if she was out of her hiding place in the ventilation ducts, then she would be easily captured. But the two prizes that she sought across the room were worth the risk of temporarily emerging from hiding: On top of a chest of drawers she could make out a human handgun and, even more importantly, one of Moya's communicator badges.

As quickly and quietly as she could manage she unfolded herself from the duct and began creeping the few steps across the room to her prizes. Lifting them, she turned and began making her way back towards the duct. A sudden, terrifying scream caused her to pause mid step. From the pitch of the voice, which was shouting now and in evident distress, she reckoned it was her brother, but there was nothing she could do about that right now. Her resolve redoubled, she quickly made it the last few steps back to the duct, pushed the weapon and badge in ahead of her and then squirmed back inside.

A hundred microts later she was as far away from the living area as she could manage. She activated the comms and whispered into it, full of fearful desperation.

"Mom! Mom! Can you hear me? I'm hiding out in Mr Kovack's house. They've got D'Argo and the others prisoner in the living room…" Livvy almost dropped the badge in shock when her mother answered, quietly but as clear as though she were beside her in the duct.

"Who? Who are they, where are they and how many are there?"

"Oh, umm… They're in the main living room, mom. All of them right now, I think. They got everyone tied up and they're hurting them."

"Who is 'them', Olivia?" Her mother's voice was calm, business-like but insistent. In the background she could hear her dad and grandpa getting agitated, that was until mom hushed them.

"There's three Scarrans and two Eidelons I think…" Livvy replied, knowing that now was the time to tell her mom exactly what she was asking for and not to allow herself to be sidetracked by any personal indulgences. Now was not the time for expressing her concerns or even finally letting go of the held back tears.

"Eidelons?!" Well, that news certainly surprised her mom. Livvy didn't think she'd ever heard her so surprised before.

"Yeah, mom!" Livvy confirmed. "Two of them. I'm absolutely sure that's who they are." She had spent enough time around Eidelons during her childhood to recognise one when she saw one, and she knew that her mom would know that, too.

"Fine, it is what it is. Hold your position, if it is safe to do so. We will be there shortly." Her mom replied. Livvy felt better already.

'~'

Inspector O'Hare of the New York Police Department pinched the bridge of his nose and took another sip of his coffee. The station house was almost deserted at this late hour and those perps that the guys in uniform brought in were generally not difficult cases. They generally came in earlier and were secured by now. It was just how O'Hare liked it. He'd seen enough, too much really, over his long career and had grown to understand that it was a good thing that he lacked imagination. He opened the cardboard vanilla binder on his latest case one more time and sighed. There wasn't much to read.

Although there wasn't much there, he could tell that this one wasn't going to be easy. He'd been on the force for nearly three decades now and it wasn't the first time he'd had a difficult or frustrating case thrust on him during the graveyard shift. But he reckoned this one might just take the biscuit.

Gray, the woman in the cells, was already known to him: a poor little rich girl who had been sounding off on TV and in the papers, blaming the Peacekeeper ambassador for the death of her mother. O'Hare was naturally inclined to disbelieve conspiracy theorists and other types of what he thought of as nutjobs. He had never thought for a moment that Sun was responsible for the elder Gray's death. People like Sun just didn't go around blowing up people in their own homes, in his opinion. They had other ways of getting what they wanted.

He flicked through the meagre papers detailing Yvonne Gray's arrest earlier that evening on a charge of attempted murder. Attempting to murder Sun, with the knife currently sitting on his desk in a plastic evidence bag. It seemed pretty open and shut. Not that he would get to investigate it, not now. The arresting officers had had to deal with some sort of Man In Black who'd wanted to accompany them to the station. Naturally, they'd refused. Then, less than ten minutes after she had been brought in, his phone had rung and some sort of Washington spook had informed him that the Gray case was a matter of national security and that she was to be held incommunicado until they got there to pick her up. Bastards.

Looked like an open and shut case to him: Woman with a grudge, real or imagined, attempted murder, plenty of witnesses. So what was so damned secret about it? His phone rang again. Thank God, it was showing up on the little screen as an internal call.

"O'Hare," he drawled, bored already. He squinted until he could see from the display on his phone that it was the front desk.

"Someone here to see Ms Gray." Mike, the duty sergeant told him. Looked like the spooks had got over here much quicker than even they had expected? "Ugh, says he's her lawyer."

O'Hare's eyes smiled just a little. So, her lawyer was here, huh? Quicker off the mark than even the spooks… He reckoned a rich little princess like her would have quite a fancy lawyer, too, the sort that would be able to really stick one to the spooks when they showed up, really screw up their plans to magic her away.

"I'll be right down," O'Hare told the desk sergeant with more than a little satisfaction. It wasn't that O'Hare had forgotten about the spooks' instructions not to let anyone speak to her, he just didn't think it was an acceptable way to go about things. She might be a perp but the lady had her rights. She had the right to talk to her lawyer, for one thing.

Gray's lawyer was standing in the corner, fidgeting nervously. O'Hare couldn't say he blamed the guy. If he was dressed up to the nines in a big, fancy suit and coat he wouldn't have felt comfortable about standing around in a city station house reception in the middle of the night either.

"I'm Inspector O'Hare," he thrust out his hand towards the lawyer who turned to face him, showing his face for the first time. Poor guy seemed to have some sort of scarring, all over his face, poorly concealed by make-up. "So you're Miss Gray's brief?" The man nodded, taking O'Hare's hand but avoiding meeting his eye. So what? Lawyer and shifty pretty much went together like ham and eggs in O'Hare's book. "I'll take you straight to her." He turned slightly to address the sergeant. "Mike, can you call the cells and get them to take Miss Gray to interview room three?"

The sergeant buzzed the security door open for them and O'Hare escorted the lawyer through and then on into the rabbits' warren of dark corridors and darker offices beyond. Everything was quiet at this time of night. Hardly a soul in the place. O'Hare knew that some men could get spooked real easy, start imagining that they'd seen things that weren't really there, couldn't really have been there. But he wasn't that sort of guy. He liked things to be down to Earth. He'd been more than a little pleased when the story had broken that Sebaceans were really just some offshoot of plain, old humans, likely taken from Earth by some sort of proper aliens centuries ago. It had played nicely to his preconceptions and meant he had an easier time dealing with the idea that they existed at all. He studiously avoided thinking about the existence of the aliens that had supposedly originally taken the Sebaceans from Earth.

People who looked human ought to be human. They didn't… shouldn't be able to go around pulling off weird, alien, voodoo stuff. It just shouldn't happen. Certainly not in front of him.

When he regained consciousness the following afternoon, he told the small knot of grey-suited poker-faced men gathered around his hospital bed that he couldn't remember a damn thing after leaving Mike in reception. No, he wouldn't recognize the supposed lawyer if he ever saw him again. And no, he had no idea what had happened to Yvonne Gray. That last bit of his statement, at least, was true.

'~'

"Dad, take Talyn and the car, get the frell away from here and wait for us to call you. If you don't hear from us in half an hour, head to the embassy and hunker down," John instructed his father whilst Aeryn stood at the tailgate, checking her heavy pulse rifle. They had parked a good quarter mile from the house in order to allow them to approach quietly and with as much stealth as they could muster.

"They will be waiting for us, so we will have to…" Aeryn began as she moved on to check on one of the standard pulse rifles.

"Ma'am, I cannot condone this sort of action. We should sit tight and wait for the appropriate authorities…" Agent Mills interrupted, pulling out his mobile phone, clearly about to make the call to those authorities.

"Firstly, that's my kids and friends in there," John stated, spittle flying from his lips as he lectured the agent. The man continued dialling regardless. "And secondly, your local Sheriff isn't going to have a frelling clue….."

Aeryn calmly took a step towards Mills and, without preamble, Pantak-jabbed the man unconscious. The phone tumbled to the ground. Agent Nixon instinctively pulled out his gun, just a split microt behind John. Aeryn and John stared at him for a second. Outdrawn and outnumbered, not to say conflicted about pulling a gun on the principals he had been assigned to protect, the agent lowered his weapon, holding the palm of his left hand up in a pacifying way. Satisfied that Aeryn had the situation covered, John paused for a beat before lifting the phone. He checked it was disconnected and tossed it into the trunk.

"Mills will be fine. But we cannot afford to wait, we cannot afford to lose the element of surprise and we cannot afford a bunch of local amateur peacekeepers frelling this up." Aeryn stated flatly to Agent Nixon. "We are going to get our children. Are you going to help us or not? If not, then please go with Jack and Talyn and protect them."

Nixon bit at his lips for a microt, considering his options. "Hell, it'll probably cost me my job…."

"Then I'll get you another one." Aeryn replied off-handedly, hefting her pulse rifle. Nixon considered that for a moment and then nodded sharply.

"OK," he stated.

"Hon, how we gonna do this? Could be another trap, like with Grayza?"

"Aren't they always?" Aeryn replied. She gave a resigned sigh and passed John one of the pulse rifles, one that she had already checked. "Let's not burn plan B until we get to it, hey?" she finished, forcing a crooked smile. John pulled a face then seemed to think again, nodded and smiled back, whilst Jack and Nixon simply looked confused. Aeryn arched an eyebrow but otherwise ignored the frelling oomans' reactions.

Within another 30 microts Jack had wished them good luck and had driven off into the night whilst John had begun to wave a small hand-held box around in the general direction of the house.

"Their ship seems to be powered down and empty. Though there's three low-caste Scarrans on perimeter watch," John whispered to Aeryn and Nixon, interpreting the display on his Peacekeeper scanner. "Readout's too fuzzy to tell who's inside."

"We have Liv's intel," Aeryn pointed out. John nodded.

"I'll draw them off, you two can go in and get your kids," Nixon offered, clearly having no idea regarding Scarrans and the threat that they posed.

"Frell that," Aeryn replied softly. Nixon frowned. "We take them out, simultaneously, one each. Then we all move in on the house. You'll need this." She handed him one of the latest model pulse rifles, brought from her holdall in the trunk of the SUV. "Shoot to kill. Your life depends on getting it right first time," she instructed. Nixon stared at the unfamiliar weapon, prompting her to remember how inexperienced humans could be with pulse rifles. Deciding now was not the time for a repeat of that incident, she gave him a 30 microt tutorial on how one worked before they headed off towards the house and the Scarran guards surrounding it.

"Ready?" Aeryn's whispered question hissed over the two men's comms. They both confirmed that they were.

"Fire!" Aeryn ordered. The latest, modified Peacekeeper pulse rifles were easily able to kill a Scarran – their three targets probably hadn't even had the chance to raise the alarm before they died. Five microts later, the three rescuers were all rushing towards the house, past the smouldering bodies of the three recently-patrolling Scarrans. There was no time for complacency or further subterfuge. If one of the Scarrans had somehow raised the alarm, they would need to act fast to save the prisoners inside the house.

Wasting no time, they stormed the building. Aeryn and John entered first and simultaneously, through different doors. Nixon, still remembering his primary duty to protect the ambassador, followed, a split-microt behind Aeryn.

It was only afterwards that they managed to piece together exactly what had happened next: The trio's first reaction shots once they got inside had each taken down an opponent, Aeryn and Nixon each accounting for a Scarran, John for one of the Eidelons. Before their enemies even finished falling, Aeryn already had the last Scarran standing in her sights. As she squeezed the trigger the lizard struck out at her in the confined space of the living room. Agent Nixon intervened, placing his body in harm's way and taking the force of the Scarran's blow. Her shot went wide, blowing a hole in the ceiling, whilst Nixon's body noisily crashed backwards into the fireplace, knocking Aeryn down beneath him.

John watched horrified as his wife fell beside Nixon. However, John knew better than to allow himself to be stunned into inaction, and he immediately fired a salvo of shots into the remaining Scarran's back, causing him to fall too. Then John turned to deal with the last opponent, the ostensible Eidelon….

John came face to face with the Eidelon's inner eye.

"Peacekeepers are not to be trusted," a voice spoke, so persuasively, seemingly inside his brain. "You know this. They have tortured you, raped you, betrayed you, left you for dead…" John felt his resolve to harm the Eidelon whither on the tide of the unassailably sweet reason filling his mind. "You hate all Peacekeepers. You want to kill them." He watched, fascinated and detached, as his gun hand re-aimed from the Eidelon to the dark-haired woman, the Peacekeeper, who lay stunned and weaponless next to the fireplace. "Remember all of the crimes this Peacekeeper has committed against you personally. Betrayal, desertion. You want…. Revenge…" the inner voice continued relentlessly. "Revenge. Take it now!"

"Commandant…. Now Ambassador Sun." A distant voice seemed to be narrating in the back of his mind. "Hero of the Kkore war, a Peacekeeper icon. And her family. Dead. Today will go down as a great day in the annals of our revenge on the Peacekeepers."

"Do it…!" The louder voice in John's head commanded. "Kill her now!" John watched, feeling curiously detached from the scene as the woman's grey eyes fluttered open. She frowned as she saw his gun pointed at her head. Her mouth opened as if to speak.

The harsh, loud bark of a weapon discharging filled the room. Silence fell, coloured only by the twin smells of smoke and of violent death.

'~'


	6. Chapter 6

Livvy emerged from the ventilation duct, Kovack's hand gun still smoking in her grip. Her dad was staring slack-jawed at the Peacekeeper pulse rifle which he clutched in his hands, apparently unable to believe that he'd been pointing it at his own wife, at Liv's mom. Liv had watched in horror, microts earlier, as the Eidolon had exposed his inner eye and turned his power on dad - she could easily imagine what he was doing - she had witnessed the Eidelons use their power for other purposes often enough in her short life. They didn't need weapons. They could use others for that.

Livvy Sun-Crichton had never liked bullies, and her mom had taught her not just how to shoot but when to shoot. She had fired three bullets from Kovack's .45 into the creature's body as rapidly as the gun's mechanism would allow.

"You OK, dad?" Liv asked, keeping her gun raised and ready in case there was life left in any of their opponents. She was the only person in the room now standing, armed and in full control of her faculties.

"Uh, yeah.. uh… Liv…" John shook his head, trying to clear the clouds of uninvited thoughts.

"Then can you check mom and that guy that came in with her, and untie the others while I keep you covered?" Liv asked. John looked at her carefully. His little jirl was standing there with a gun in one hand issuing instructions, and good ones at that. He noticed that she was keeping hold of the gun and not offering it to him – that was wise, considering that he had just been under the influence of one of the Eidelons. She was all grown up and he hadn't noticed it happening.

"Uh… yeah, sure..." John replied, moving uneasily towards Aeryn and Nixon.

"I'll be fine!" Aeryn interrupted, struggling to her feet and shrugging off John's worried hand. "I'll check Nixon, John, you untie the others, make sure they're alright. It's not the first time a Scarran's knocked me down and I doubt it will be the last." She grumbled as she started to minister to the fallen agent.

'~'

"Thank you Dave." The TV reporter replied, smoothing back his hair with one hand whilst staring into the camera with a pout worthy of Derek Zoolander. "Yes, I'm standing outside the Sebacean embassy in Massachusetts, where last night there was an armed confrontation between a small unknown group and embassy staff. Today, federal authorities have been removing four heavily damaged vehicles, one of which we think is Ambassador Sun's private car. Unconfirmed reports say that at least eight bodies were recovered from the scene, at least four of which are rumoured not to be human. We asked for a statement from Louisa Bach, the embassy's spokesperson, but she has refused to comment on this, the attack on Ambassador Sun at NYNTV's studios last night or the attack on Captain John Kovack's house which also took place later last night and is thought to be linked to the other two incidents. Ms Bach has confirmed, however, that the ambassador and her family are all safe, well and in good spirits…."

The TV droned on in the corner of the embassy's main kitchen, largely ignored, just like the distant sound of helicopters flying around outside. D'Argo, his face swollen and bruised, helped himself to another spoon of strawberry jello. Livvy walked past, taking a tray of coffee and cake through to dad and John Kovack, who were in the next room with Ms Bach, discussing what they should say to who and in what order. Lieutenant Pittach and mom were out in space, setting up a new beacon at the mouth of the wormhole, but were expected back for lunch. At least, that was what everyone had said, verbally avoiding the possibility that they might be met by more attackers, although they had taken both the prowler and the marauder for a job which could have been done by a transport pod.

D'Argo tried to grin encouragingly at his sister, but the effort made him groan with pain. Livvy shot him back a sympathetic smile and then, satisfied that he was going to be OK, stepped through the door.

'~'

A flight into deep space in a prowler would normally have been just what Aeryn would have enjoyed most after the traumatic events of the previous few weekens. However, the danger that a hostile ship or ships could still be at large in the system counteracted any relief that she might have gained from being back in a pilot's seat. Not that it was just herself and Pittach she worried about: John and the children were Earthside, and it was still unclear whether all of the Eidelon and Scarran group's planet-bound resources had been destroyed in the recent confrontations. She was especially worried by the as yet unconfirmed reports that Yvonne Gray had somehow disappearedin mysterious circumstances.

Aeryn felt almost none of her tension drain away as Pittach, in the marauder stationed half a metra in front of Aeryn's prowler, deposited the replacement navigational beacon close to the location of the wormhole. If there was going to be an attack from a cloaked ship, would it come now? If it were her in charge of her enemies, now would have been the moment to choose. They could neutralize both Peacekeepers, both of their combat craft and destroy the navigation beacon so preventing any back-up coming safely through the wormhole. She flexed her fingers, settling her grip on the prowler's controls, her thumb worrying at the weapons-firing button.

The newly discovered, and as yet largely unknown, threat of the Eidelon-Scarran group had exposed the weakness of the embassy's position in so many ways. Her main worry was that they were only able to traverse the wormhole in unarmed Leviathan craft. They needed different technology, Earth technology, maybe, but Earth had so often, so far, shown itself to be intent on an agenda which barely overlapped with that of the Peacekeepers. The humans had respected their diplomatic immunity so far, but they had clearly been unhappy at recent events, even before the violence of last night, and were probably considering whether to act against the embassy or not. That was why she and Pittach were out here so soon after the three attacks: They needed to re-establish contact with High Command, re-establish the options for fight, flight or reinforcement. And as soon as they got back to Earth she needed to get back in personal contact with President Caine, reassure him that their tacit agreement, and the logic and goodwill behind it, still stood.

Hezmanna, she was not looking forward to having a consulate in Washington. The place got so frelling hot in the summer. At least until now she had been able to get in and out of the place within arns, coddled all the while by air conditioning. Spending protracted periods there would be a whole different matter. She would bet that none of her people would enjoy that aspect of her plans either – she couldn't see summer in Washington being a popular posting. Maybe they needed allies from some other species to take on those roles? Maybe some friendly Kalish, like Sikozu?

Her musings were interrupted by the prowler's comms crackling into life. The signal was faint, distorted. She turned up the volume to hear it better.

"Aeryn! Aeryn! Can you hear me!?" It sounded like Sikozu, coming from the other end of the wormhole. Talk of the devil, as John would say.

"Yes, this is Aeryn Sun. Please identify yourself."

"Aeryn? You're alive! It's Sikozu, on Moya."

Aeryn breathed a sigh of relief. At last things were looking up - contact had been re-established with the other side of the wormhole. And, better even than that, Aeryn hoped, was that her friends on Moya seemed to have survived the attack on them.

"Is it safe to come through the wormhole?" Sikozu continued.

"We're not sure." Aeryn pushed aside her personal concerns and desire to ask after individual friends and focussed on her responsibilities to those waiting on both sides of the wormhole. "There have been more attacks this side. Although we have eliminated the attackers, we do not know if we have got all of them. But Pittach and I are situated just the other side, in the prowler and marauder, so it is as safe right now as it is likely ever going to be."

"Excellent we're coming through. We've got some passengers and some important news to share with you."

"We've got plenty to share too," Aeryn replied, more to herself than Sikozu.

Aeryn could guess already who the passengers might be; new diplomatic staff, more soldiers and maybe even some Eidelons. Eidelons. She wondered how she was going to manage that little challenge... or would it be confrontation? The thought made Aeryn surprisingly excited. As to whatever Sikozu's news might be, well, they both had plenty of that to share. And then there was the new consulate, there were plans to be made, orders to give, actions to take.

For the first time in over a weeken, Aeryn found herself thinking eagerly about the future: It was time for a new beginning.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. One or two people have suggested I could take this further. While I agree it could be taken further, I feel like I'm done with it. Writing this was something of an experience, even for someone with a few long fics under their belt.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride. I'm guessing you did, otherwise you wouldn't have got this far.


End file.
